


What Gladiators Fight For

by cookie_book_took



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Brock is an arsehole, Brock is scum of the earth, Bucky wants Steve, Bucky was a sex slave, Character Death, Dark, Dark Past, Domina Natasha, Dominus Tony, Eventual Happy Ending, Fuck Or Die, Gladiator AU, Gladiators, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, In the end, Kissing, M/M, Murder, POV Bucky Barnes, Past Abuse, Past Rape, Poison, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve, Sharon and Brock are the nastiest couple, Slaves, Spartacus speech, Steve and Bucky are made to have sex in front of audience, Steve can be bad tempered, Steve wants Bucky, Steve was a soldier, Swearing, Top Steve Rogers, Violence, WIP, moody Steve, non-con, not at first, stucky au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-04-20 17:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookie_book_took/pseuds/cookie_book_took
Summary: A new gladiator is brought to Ludus Stark. Steve Rogers is a disgraced soldier, who refused to fight for Rome.He doesn't want his actions decided by others anymore, and accepts death until Bucky changes his mind.Steve fights to stop Bucky being sold back to his previous master, and Tony exploits the bond blossoming between them.He makes a bargain with Steve, if he fights and wins, Bucky will spend the night with Steve in his cell.Steve wins every fight, until the finale in the Colosseum. Hes not fighting for Bucky, but his Freedom, but is Freedom worth it without Bucky by his side.





	1. Steve and Bucky meet

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gladiator/Spartacus (TV Series) style stucky au.  
> I'm so relieved/happy to be writing Stucky again :)  
> Tags to be added as I write.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

 

 

Chapter 1

Bucky watched as his Domina, Natasha, sniffed at her hair. It was platted, scarlet in colour and long, reaching down to her breast. The gown she wore was white and brushed the floor elegantly as she moved.  She dropped her hair, grimaced, then shook her head.

“I have not bathed for three weeks. I smell as bad as those animals kept in their cages.”

She turned to Bucky, flashing her eyes up and down his form. He didn’t fidget from her gaze, but stood with his back straight, and his chin lifted, just how she liked him too. The tunic he wore was the same colour as Natasha’s hair, a sign he belonged to her, not to the Dominus of the house.

“Does my pungent scent reach where you stand?”

Bucky inwardly faltered then shook his head. He couldn’t tell if it was the sweat and grime on his body he smelled or hers, but he didn’t want to insult his mistress. Bathing wasn’t the only problem in the villa: they didn’t have enough water for washing clothes, and the plants had long withered, and died. All water was for drinking, and barely enough to parch the throats of all the slaves and gladiators of the Ludus.

“Your scent is as sweet as ever.” Bucky said, bowing forward and lifting his lips into a smile.

She smirked, and her eyes crinkled. “If I wanted flattery, I would’ve asked my husband. You are mine to speak the truth.”

Bucky stopped smiling and shuffled from foot to foot. “Then yes, your scent has dulled, but still sweeter than most.”

Her face tightened in annoyance, and she whipped her plat over her shoulder. “Concealed by worry, and dirtied by lack of wealth. But today the luck of Ludus Stark will change.”

Bucky smiled. “And then there will be enough water for baths.”

His Domina wagged her finger. “Yes, richer food, and gold chains to rival sun, gowns so soft they’re barely felt on skin, and ten of the finest gladiators to add to our collection.”

She paused, and her lips popped open. “Unless husband makes error.”

Bucky shook his head. “He is to buy ten men from market to train, he will not disappoint.”

Natasha breathed deep through her nose, and then exhaled slowly. “Yes, you are right. He will do as promised.”

Bucky smiled, and she smiled back. She moved toward him and reached for his face. Her thumb brushed against Bucky’s stubble, then she moved her hands into his hair. Both were longer than she favoured, and a frown marred her brow. Natasha was older than him, he didn’t know by how much, he didn’t dare ask. She told him it was his fifth year, marking not the date of his birth, but the day she claimed him as her slave. There were twenty years she didn’t count, nothing but a swirl of dark memories he didn’t allow his mind to linger on. She had saved him, and he had been indebted to her for five painless years, free of humiliation. Natasha turned her attention to Bucky’s eyes, and he stared back unblinking.

“Still your eyes shine brighter than any diamond.” She whispered.

“Only when reflecting you.”

Her frown softened, and she squeezed Bucky’s chin before releasing him.

“Now let's wait for husbands return, and drink wine.”

She moved briskly past and clicked her fingers. Bucky strode across the room to the remaining wine and glanced over his shoulder, making sure she wasn’t looking, then poured half water, half wine into a glass. Not under Natasha’s wishes, but the Dominus Tony's. She was not to know of their lacking in wine. The jug on the table was all they had left, and Bucky had to make sure it lasted. Tony didn’t enjoy wine, but Natasha loved it.

Bucky handed the glass to her, and she bowed in thanks before patting the space beside her. “Sit.”

He perched on the edge of the couch and swallowed uncomfortably as she raised the glass to her lips. She sipped, then tightened her face in distaste.

“I do not favour the new wine husband bought. It lacks strength, and depth.”

“It is a rarity, a drink desired by those in Rome.”

He tensed, expecting her to call out his lie, but she stared at the glass in her grip and snorted.

“Then those in Rome have no taste.”

“One day you will educate them on finer wine.”

She raised her glass in the air. “That I will.”

Suddenly, the door to the villa burst open, and in walked the Dominus Tony, flanked by two armed guards. His lips were spread in a huge smile, which only raised suspicion in Bucky. He darted a look to Natasha, and noticed she too was analysing his smile unfavourably.

“I return as hero.”

Natasha shoved the glass to Bucky’s chest, and he climbed off the couch. He circled and stood behind her, back straight, and chin up.

“Husband, where is our army of gladiators?”

Tony clapped his hands. “Why have army, when we can have a god?”

Bucky’s eyes were drawn down by the sudden stiffness in Natasha. She rocked forward before rising slowly to stand.

“You were to get ten men to train.”

“And I return with better prospect.”

Two other armed guards walked through the door, mere children in size compared to the man between them. His walk was slow with his ankles chained together, and his shoulders jutted forward, Bucky guessed his wrists were cuffed at his back. A loin-cloth hid his modesty, but Bucky still felt his cheeks burn with interest. The man’s chest was huge, muscles bulging so much the skin concealing them looked like it would split. His thighs were wide, his calves were too, and he didn’t walk with a stoop, or lower his chin. He stood defiant. The guards kept a healthy distance, and side-eyed the giant between them.

“See, I bring you a god among men.”

Bucky continued to study the man, finally tracking his eyes to his face. It took every ounce of determination not to flinch when he noticed he was being studied too. Bucky stared back, barely noting the other features to the man’s face. At the distance Bucky struggled to see the colour of his irises, not brown, but a drowning blue that easily swept Bucky away. They stared at each other, until Bucky could take it no more, and he dropped his gaze and lowered his chin.

“You bring me one man?” Natasha shouted.

Tony laughed. “You do not use eyes. A god, Natasha, a god wearing mask of man.”

“You did not spend all coin on one gladiator...”

Natasha’s voice trailed off, and the silence hung heavy in the room, then the wine glass was yanked suddenly from Bucky’s grip, and he looked up in alarm. Natasha rushed at Tony and threw the contents of the glass in his direction. He ducked out of the way, and raised his hands in surrender. It was common they argued, and Bucky and the guards averted their gazes. Tony begged, he pleaded, but Natasha growled in outrage, and held the glass out behind her.

“Bring more wine to drown husband.”

Bucky grimaced, and took a tentative step forward.

Tony shook his head and pointed sternly in his direction. “Do not.”

Bucky widened his eyes, caught between the wants of both his masters. There was another set of eyes on him, one that made his skin feel itchy, and his cheeks redden. He flashed a look at the man in the center of the room and glared as he smirked.

“He is not your slave, he is mine, bought with my coin. You have no say in what he does.”

Bucky snapped his attention back to Natasha and moved closer, hand stretched to take the glass.

“He lives under Ludus Stark. He must show me respect, not allow crazy wife to throw wine.”

Natasha spun around, breezed past Bucky to find the wine herself. She placed the glass on the table with a snort, then snatched up the jug and floated back towards Tony with a savage smile.

“Crazy wife? Rather a crazy wife than a stupid husband.”

Tony moved behind the man and placed his hands on his muscular shoulders. “Look, pure strength.”

Natasha lowered the jug and stared at the man. He didn’t return her gaze, and Bucky flushed when he realised he was being stared at again. Bucky lowered his chin and studied his feet as he brushed one on top of the other.

“Do not cower!” Natasha bellowed, and he forced his gaze off the floor, back to her. She turned back to the man and moved to block his view of Bucky.

“Do not stare at my slave that way. Now tell me your name.”

The man shuffled from foot to foot, and the chains binding him clunked noisily. “Steve.”

Bucky angled his head slightly to see the man clearer.

Steve was easier to look at when he was unaware. His hair was long, and swept over his head, and his beard was patchy on his jaw. There were smudges of dirt to his face, and purple trenches beneath his eyes.

“He was a centurion, a leader of men.” Tony whispered.

Natasha shook her head. “Was?”

Tony grimaced, then rubbed at his chin. “Disgraced, a war criminal.”

Natasha tipped back her head and released a bark of laughter. “You bring traitor to our house?”

“I bring prospect, traitor can turn triumphant.” Tony mumbled, gazing at Steve with adoration.

“He will be the most hated gladiator.”

Tony nodded in agreement. “At first, but he will win, and each win will bring us closer to Rome.”

Natasha raised the jug in her hand, and Tony hid behind Steve’s bulk. The jug wobbled, then she lowered it, grasped it in both hands and lifted it to her lips. Tony sighed, and Bucky watched as the stance of his master relaxed.

The tension in the room evaporated as Natasha drank the lot. She released a sound of happy refreshment, wiped her mouth on the back of her arm then turned to Bucky.

“It tastes richer than before.” She said, cocking her head.

Bucky’s lip trembled as he thought of what to say. He was saved by Tony who walked forward with his gaze attached to the ceiling.

“Must be from the gods. A sign of their blessing.”

Natasha bobbed her head and shook the jug at Bucky. “Bring more.”

Bucky took it from her and marched towards the storeroom. Steve’s eyes followed him, but he pushed his suffocating presence away. He had more pressing issues, the main one being he had to find a substitute for wine.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Steve and Bucky speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky speak, that's enough of a summary lol  
> Thank you for comments and Kudo, and reading this fic <3
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief Mentions of Bucky's previous house in this chapter.

 

Chapter 2

Bucky peered at the training courtyard from the villa’s balcony. Natasha lounged next to him, sprawled out on a couch on top of dulled silk cushions. The sun blared down on them, and Bucky could feel the sweat in his hair, and under his tunic at his armpits. He flapped a fan in front of Natasha’s face, but he could tell by her clammy skin, and the moisture gathered on her cupid's bow, it wasn’t helping. Steve and the gladiators prowled the square. One had fallen with exhaustion after sparring with Steve, and lay panting on the sand.

Tony appeared on the balcony, wiping his sweaty brow on his arm. “And how is my God faring today?”

Natasha flashed a venomous look his way. “He does not strike.”

Tony gestured to the fallen man at Steve’s feet. “And yet he wins.”

Natasha shook her head. “He deflects their attack. They grow weary, and faint.”

Steve turned to the balcony, eyes linking with Bucky’s once again. Bucky swallowed uncomfortably and shuffled away from his line of sight.

“And he stares at my slave like he wishes to devour.”

Bucky was glad he wasn’t being paranoid, but it didn’t loosen the knot of anxiety in his chest. Steve’s stare wasn’t pleasant, it lacked all emotion, and unsettled him. He shrank at the gaze and lowered his head without meaning to.

Tony hummed, considering Natasha’s words.

“Probably brings back memory of Centurion days, eighty men at his command, and now he is slave. It is a great fall, but he still stands.”

Natasha shook her head. “He deserved the fall, no room for traitors.”

“They spoke of his incredible skill with sword, even more so with the shield—

“And we’re yet to see it.”

Tony closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “We will.”

Natasha tutted. “I hear many exotic beasts will be at these games. They seek men to be torn limb from limb, they will pay well for the meat on him.”

Tony shook his head. “They will not pay enough, trust me Natasha. He will fight for our house and bring us good fortune.”

“How will you make him?”

Tony crossed his arms and sighed. “I will take him to the pits.”

Bucky shivered, but disguised his involuntary movements with a shuffle. He had been there before with his previous master, witnessed the brutal savageness of soulless men. The fights were without honour and performed with no weapons: fists smashing faces, biceps strangling necks, thumbs forcing eyes into brains.

Natasha widened her eyes, and her lips popped open. “The pits…”

“Yes. Tomorrow, and when I’m satisfied with his blood lust, we will return.”

She shook her head. “And what if he falls?”

“He won’t.”

“If?” she snapped.

Tony braced his hand over his heart. “Then I will offer myself as a gladiator in his stead, will that satisfy crazy wife?”

“The thought of Steve falling suddenly has appeal.”

Tony laughed, but Natasha didn’t. She pressed her lips together in a firm line and stared until Tony retreated. Only when he had gone, did her irritated expression soften, and make way for worry.

“The pits are dangerous, for those fighting and those watching.”

“The guards will keep Dominus safe, no harm will come to him.” Bucky said, offering her a small smile.

“If Steve refuses to fight, if he were to fall, then this Ludus falls with him. We cannot keep slaves and guards with no coin.” She turned to Bucky slowly, and her brow scrunched with sympathy. “I’d be forced to sell you, and we both know your previous master would offer highest price.”

Bucky stiffened and stopped flapping the fan. His heart sped up until he could feel it in his throat, and the sweat on his body was no longer from the sun.

Bucky shifted from foot to foot as subtly as he could. They were not chained, they were not chained. He repeated the internal thought, trying to chase away the unhappy memories of his previous house. His skin itched with phantom hands, and he unconsciously leaned on the wall to shield his back.

 Natasha studied him with concern. She grimaced, and her eyes shone with repressed emotion. “I will break promise to you.”

Bucky breathed deep through his nose and exhaled slowly to calm himself. “I am slave, do not worry of promise. Let’s hope Steve fights in the pits and returns eager for further battle in the arena.”

Natasha blinked back her sorrow and nodded. “Yes, I’d drink to it, but no wine.”

Bucky laughed lightly, and Natasha joined him.

\------------------------------

That night sleep evaded Bucky. He stared at the ceiling of the villa with his arms crossed behind his head. The bed at his back was comfortable, and his limbs were free of shackles and chains. There was no brute breathing heavily at his back, no ache between his legs. He didn’t want to go back to his previous master, would rather die than go back there.

He swung his legs off the bed and pulled on his tunic. He moved stealthily past Natasha’s and Tony’s room, who were both still in their bed. His feet were nothing but a gentle patter on the tiles, and the moonlight streaming in from the ceiling windows of the villa guided his way.

Bucky crouched, and peeked around the corner. Clint was the guard on duty. He was slumped on the floor, helmet low over his eyes. Bucky listened intently, and a small smile lifted his lips at the sound of his snores. He crept closer and stepped lightly on his toes as he passed.

The passage he guarded led to stairs, and at the bottom a huge metal gate stood between Bucky and the gladiators.

He moved hesitantly closer, staring into the abyss of darkness. The only light came from a flickering candle on the wall. The gladiators had individual sleeping quarters, but there were no doors between them, any of them could walk right up to the gate at any moment. Bucky was familiar with the other gladiators, and they didn’t bother him, unless they were begging for wine.

“Steve…” he whispered.

He swallowed at the lingering silence, so intense it made his ears buzz. Bucky’s heart leapt beneath his ribs when he heard the slap of feet. They got closer, and louder, and Bucky stepped a few feet away from the gate.

Steve appeared from the shadows, head cocked, and eyes tired. He rubbed alertness back into them with his hand, then fixed his attention on Bucky.

Bucky couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him and took another unconscious step away. Steve’s intense eyes robbed him of all thoughts, and his mouth flapped helplessly.

“Is there a reason you whisper my name softly in the night?”

Bucky snapped his jaw shut at the mocking tone and narrowed his eyes.

“I want to know why you will not fight.”

Steve raised his brow and widened his eyes. “What a question, will you punch and kick answer out of me?”

Bucky shook his head, then glanced down at himself. “Do I look like I could?”

Steve snorted. “No, but it would be most amusing to see you try.”

“Tomorrow, Dominus is taking you to the pits. You will have to fight, or else face violent death.”

Steve pulled a face of distaste, then shook his head. His eyes didn’t leave Bucky’s and his lips twisted in a smirk.

“It warms heart to know you fear my death. If the gods have decided I will die in the pits surrounded by animals, then that is what must happen.”

Bucky stepped forward, flashing his teeth as he spoke. “I do not fear your death, I fear my life.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “You make no sense.”

“If you die, the Ludus will fall. All slaves will be sold, I’ll be sold back to my old master.”

Steve laughed and shrugged. “You go from one master to the next, there’s no difference.”

“There is difference, big fucking difference. I would rather die than go back to him, at first opportunity I will make it so.”

A noise left Steve’s lips, almost a growl. Bucky took another step forward and pleaded to Steve through the bars.

“My Domina is kind, kind to all—

“You are a slave, and they want me to kill under their say so.”

“No less than what you did in Rome’s name.”

Steve growled, and struck the bars with his fists. “You know nothing of Rome.”

“I know you’re a traitor.”

Steve bared his teeth then stepped back from the bars shaking his head. He turned to leave, but Bucky surged forward and gripped his forearm through the bars. Steve glared at Bucky’s hand, flaring his nostrils, and Bucky quickly pulled his arm back.

He moved his hand to his shoulder and lifted the material slightly. The mark of his previous house still appeared raw on his skin. An angry red etching of a star.

“Do you know the house I belonged to?”

Steve smacked his lips together as if eating something unpleasant. “I know of it.”

“If this Ludus falls, they’ll sell me back.”

“That is dirty tactic to make me fight. You ask me to kill with no thought of victim.”

Bucky lowered the tunic over his shoulder. “I don’t pretend it’s easy.”

“I want to decide what I use these hands for, not let others.”

“You are a gladiator now, bought to fight and bring honour to Ludus Stark.”

Steve hissed and shook his head. “I will not follow orders to kill anymore.”

Bucky breathed deep and dropped his gaze to the floor. “I have been to the pits with previous master, have seen brutes use teeth, gorge eyes, and punch others to pulp. My master gave me as reward to victors. They don’t just fight like savages, they fuck like them too. They are cruel, twisted men, who enjoy the suffering of others.”

Bucky shook his head before any memory could surge forward from the dark part of his mind and concentrated on the soft tunic hanging against his skin, and the lack of chains on his wrists.

“I am sorry for your pain.” Steve whispered softly.

He sounded like he meant it, Bucky could hear the sorrow in his voice, and he closed his eyes letting the words sink in. Then Steve sighed, and Bucky heard his head hit the bars with a dull thump.

 “But I will not kill at Stark’s say so. I am done killing at the say so of others.”

Steve still spoke softly, a wisp of words laced with deep regret. Bucky nodded at his feet, blinked the tears from his eyes and lifted his head.

“If that is your decision, then I have to accept. I do not like the thought of your suffering. I hope passage to the afterlife is fast, so swift pain is not felt.”

He bowed, then ran up the steps. Steve didn’t call him back, but Bucky felt his eyes following.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less than two weeks until Infinity War :O <3


	3. Steve isn't nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve isn't too thrilled to see Bucky again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos and Comments. <3  
> Warning for Steve being a grumpy arse.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

There was little to distract Natasha with as she waited for her husband to return. She lounged on the sofa on the balcony, then in her bed, before finally settling in the main room of the villa with her eyes targeting the door.

Bucky couldn’t pour wine to calm her nerves or run a bath to relax her tense muscles. He could only hover beside her, waiting just as anxiously for the doors to swing open at Stark’s return. 

Steve had made his decision, but Bucky hoped he had a change of heart once confronted with the monsters of the pit. 

Steve intrigued and terrified him in equal measures. There was bitterness in the depths of his eyes, a coldness that made Bucky shudder, but then he remembered his soft words, his pained voice when he told Bucky he would not kill on command.

Natasha and Bucky glanced at each other when they heard footsteps approaching the villa. The doors swung open, and Stark strode forward covered in blood. He took two steps into the room, then collapsed on the floor. There were no guards flanking, or Steve at his back. Bucky’s heart stuttered, and he froze in horror. 

Natasha lept up like a cat and ran to Tony’s side. “Where do you bleed from?”

Tony lifted his shaking hand, unable to speak in his obvious discomfort. Natasha looked to Bucky with panic-blown eyes. He flashed a look at her, then beyond his masters huddled on the floor to the door, hoping Steve would appear.

“Bucky, get the medicus!”

Her savage tone woke him from hope and he turned on his heels to run but stopped at the bark of laughter from Tony. When he looked back at the stricken man, he was laughing harder. Natasha pressed her hand to his forehead, and her mouth hung open in shock.

“Not my blood.” Tony laughed, “but of those slain by our god.”

Natasha’s mouth flapped in confusion. “What?”

“Too easy to trick foolish wife.”

Natasha got to her feet and curled back her lip. “Bucky bring jug to smash open stupid husband’s skull.”

Tony jumped up with a big grin on his face. “Maybe coin will please crazy wife.”

He reached inside his blood-covered robe and tugged a small purse free. He rattled it, and Natasha melted at the sound. No longer the fierce beast, but gentle, she even spoke softer.

“Enough for bath?”

Tony nodded. “Enough for few.”

She snatched the bag from his grip, kissed it, then kissed Tony’s cheek. “You smell of blood and filth.”

Tony looked down at himself. “It insults my own nose, but too joyous to care. Bring him in!”

Bucky’s heart fluttered in his chest, and he flexed his face to keep his expression neutral. Steve had changed his mind, had fought for the Ludus Stark, had saved Bucky and the other slaves from being sold to harsher masters. His eyebrows twitched in his need to express his relief and happiness, but he kept still, with his eyes unblinking at the open door.

Steve appeared, coated in different shades of red. Some patches looked fresh, others dried and flaky. There were slices to his flesh that oozed, and his face was swollen. His shoulders jutted forward again with his arms chained behind him, but his ankles were free. He strode forward and stopped when Tony raised his hand. Steve didn’t look at Bucky, he looked anywhere but.

“You should have seen him. A glorious sight. Only marked by scratching nails and biting teeth.”

Natasha didn’t turn to Steve, she smiled weighing the purse of coins in her hand. “Why not make him fight the pit all the time?”

“There is no honour, for Ludus or gladiator.”

Natasha raised the purse. “Coin though, lots of coin.”

“Not compared to gladiators who fight in Rome.”

Natasha sighed through her nose, then nodded. 

Tony turned back to Steve and flicked his chin out. “Come, let medicus treat wounds.”

When the guards led Steve past, Bucky tried to catch his eye, but Steve refused him.

Natasha was joyous with the thought of bathing. She unwound her platted hair and attempted to comb her fingers through the knotted strands. Bucky took over with a soft bristle brush, but there was no hope detangling the mess. 

“I’m glad Steve fought, means you and I do not have to part.”

Bucky smiled. “I am glad too.”

“He didn’t gaze at you with devouring eyes I noticed. He’s learnt his place not to ogle at my most treasured slave.”

The smile Bucky produced was fake and ached his cheeks. Steve hadn’t even spared him a look, didn’t acknowledge he stood in the same room or breathed the same air. He shook the thought away and scolded himself. Steve had returned, tired and injured. He needed treatment and rest, not Bucky acting like his lack of acknowledgment was a rejection. 

Natasha covered her yawn with her palm. “I will sleep soundly tonight with thought of bath tomorrow, as will you.”

Bucky nodded, but he knew sleep would evade him like the night before. He wanted to see Steve, to personally thank him.

\------------------------------

The silence hummed in the villa. Bucky was overly aware of his beating heart, and the air being drawn in and out of his nose. He flexed his fingers at his sides, curled his toes, and tried to calm himself. In his excited state he would wake everyone in the villa, and he needed to use stealth to see Steve again. 

He swung his legs off his bed and rested his feet on the floor. There was no movement throughout the villa, and Bucky rose slowly to his feet. He walked on his tiptoes with his back bowed over. Clint was slumped on the floor with his legs spread out in front of him. Bucky paused when he snuffled, and rubbed at his nose, but then he relaxed again and the nasally sounds resumed.

Bucky crept past and quietly down the stairs, noting the dropping in temperature as he got closer to the gate. The side of their sleeping quarters was always exposed to the elements, Tony said it toughed their skin to experience cold. Bucky shivered and hugged his tunic to his chest. The lamp behind the gate flickered, in danger of going out. Bucky willed it not to, and its dancing stopped.

“Steve.” He whispered.

He waited for footsteps, but there were none. He peered into the dark, hoping to see a shift of movement. The blackness unnerved him, seemed to reach beyond the bars and tug him dangerously closer.

“Steve?” he said, then smacked his hand to his mouth, and looked behind himself. He listened for the sound of Clint waking, heart in his throat and too afraid to take a satisfying breath of air. If he was caught out of bed, Natasha would be disappointed; she would question him, and see him punished. Not with whip like disobedient gladiators, but by removing him from her side. 

“What?” Steve snapped.

Bucky jolted backwards and clattered to the ground. He pressed his hand to his rampant heart and panted for breath. Steve appeared through the darkness. His mouth was pressed in a line, with a deep dent of annoyance at the top of his nose. His black eye shined in the dull light, and Bucky could see scratch marks on his chest. Steve stared at Bucky through the bars, eyes lacking any compassion. The aura around him was cold, and Bucky shivered as he climbed to his feet.

“I wanted to see you.”

Steve’s top lip twitched, and he pulled it back revealing his gritted teeth. He gripped the iron bars and Bucky’s attention snapped to his knuckles. Double the size they should have been and painted black and blue with bruises. They shook, not with cold, but pain at holding the bars so hard. 

“You see me.” Steve hissed.

He glared with such an intense anger Bucky felt like curling into a ball at his feet. He wiped his palms against his tunic instead and flicked his chin out towards Steve’s gripping hands.

“Did the medicus help with pain? He can be angry as rabid dog, but he’s a goo—

Steve rattled the gate, and Bucky stumbled back, checking behind himself for Clint.

“Do not waste time. Why are you here?”

The furious expression directed his way made Bucky shuffle and grip the back of his neck. He couldn’t think of what to say, his mind cowered at Steve’s anger, and he was left a mute shell.

“Speak!” Steve demanded.

Bucky bowed his head, stuttered, then regained his ability to speak. “Gratitude, for fightin—”

“Hold tongue,” Steve growled, and Bucky almost bit through it when his mouth snapped shut. “I do not wish to hear thanks. If you had not visited the night before I would have accepted death and died with morals intact.”

Bucky swallowed uncomfortably and lowered his gaze to be free of Steve’s.

“I killed men on command, again, and it sickens me. You sicken me, by using that tempting face, and your sorrowful story of previous master to move heart to betray head.”

Bucky stepped back and scrunched his brow. “I did not force you to kill men, I accepted your words.”

“Did your Domina put you up to it, did she whisper in your ear, and tell you to whisper in mine?”

Bucky shook his head. “No—

“Do not come down here, and whisper name again.”

Bucky retreated, and his heels knocked into the bottom step of the stairs. “I will not.”

Steve snorted, released the bars of the gate, then pressed a bruised finger to his temple. “Know that you have caused pain that cannot be stitched or cured with medicine. Those cruel, twisted men you spoke of, ones that gorged eyes and punched men to pulp. Know that you have made one out of me.”

Bucky’s eyes burned, and he blinked through the tears as he ran up the steps. He didn’t try to soften the sound of his slapping feet, and he didn’t resist the urge to sniff as he cried. 

Clint grabbed him around the chest, and he yelped stumbling back. 

“I will tell Domina you sneak in the night!”

Bucky struggled free of his grip and wiped the heel of his hand on his puffy cheeks. “And I’ll tell her you sleep in the night. We will both be punished, but yours more severe.”

Clint’s mouth flapped, and he stepped back from Bucky. He licked his lips then nodded. “Go to bed, and we shall not speak of this again.”

Bucky nodded then rushed through the villa. 

He yanked the tunic off, threw it on the floor, then collapsed on the bed, and rubbed harshly at his face. His hands didn’t absorb the tears, and he growled, rolled on his front, and bunched his blanket to his face. Men had looked at him with hate before, but never had it affected him enough to bring tears to the surface so fast. Steve hated him, and it hurt that he did. A pain felt deep in his chest, that he didn’t know how to describe. It felt like something was absent, like the grumble of a long-starved stomach, but higher, affecting his lungs and his skipping heart. He felt empty, and he hated Steve for making him feel that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we meet Brock and Sharon....


	4. Brock and Sharon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Brock and Sharon....the ultimate nasty couple...
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> Thanks for reading! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk of Bucky's previous life as a sex slave, and Brock being a creep threatening him...
> 
> Bonus: see if you can guess which line is the nastiest line I've ever written...

 

Chapter 4

There was only one way to cure the emptiness in Bucky’s chest; he used the heat of anger to fill it.  It was not his fault Steve chose to fight.  His morals couldn’t have been that strong if they were so easily corrupted by their brief conversation. The men of the pits were savages, and the slaves of the villa were kind. If he has to choose between the two, Bucky would always fight for the comfortable life all the slaves had in the ludus Stark. His body lacked the strength of a gladiator, and he lacked skill with a sword, and though Steve had both, he was loyal only to himself.

Steve didn’t glance his way while he trained in the courtyard, but Bucky stared at him with all the bitterness he could muster. He hoped Steve could feel his skin singing under his furious gaze, and when he slapped angrily at his back Bucky thought his gaze had been felt and longed for spontaneous combustion.

“Now it is you that looks to devour.” Natasha muttered.

Bucky lowered his eyes. “Apologies, Domina.”

She cocked her head and ran her fingers through her hair. No longer platted, it bunched elegantly over her shoulders, and each wisp of wind brought the sweet scent to Bucky’s nose. The gown she wore was rich red, lined with gold trim. She looked nothing short of a goddess as she lounged in the sun.

She scanned Bucky, then frowned. “The past few days, I thought more smiles would spread your lips, but only anger creases brow.”

The villa was thriving once again. The food had been restocked, washing the clothing had resumed, and the Domina had enjoyed a bath. They had even replaced the dead plants in the villa and swept the floors until the tiles sparkled once again, but Bucky hadn’t been able to enjoy the replenished villa.

“I have not been feeling like myself.” Bucky mumbled.

Natasha scrambled up on the couch and tugged him close by the hand. She held her palm to his head and frowned.

“Sick?”

It was a sickness, but not one that anyone could cure. He didn’t answer, and Natasha turned her head and looked at the courtyard below.

“Do you need the medicus?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, Domina.”

She sighed and retracted her hand. “Then what?”

Bucky forced his lips into a smile. “I am fine, low of mood that is all.”

Natasha exhaled slowly from her nose, then nodded. She cupped his face in both hands and brushed her thumbs against his cheek bones. “I cannot lose you to sickness.”

“You will not.” Bucky promised.

She released him and lay back down on the couch. Bucky looked down at the courtyard, and Steve quickly averted his gaze, and then turned his back to the balcony. The anger surfaced once again in Bucky, and he couldn’t help the frown from marring his forehead, and the unconscious clenching of his hands.

He jolted at the sound of a clap and turned slowly to Tony. He strutted the length of the balcony with his head facing the heavens. The tunic he wore was tight around his body, down to his knees and tied with a gold cord at his waist.

“I bring good news,” he said.

Bucky moved out of the way and stood behind Natasha.

“What news?” she asked.

Tony clapped again. “Guests.”

Natasha snorted and shook her head. “What guests?”

“Brock Rumlow….”

Bucky stiffened at the name, and the anger in his body turned into fearful ice. He breathed deep through his nose, and exhaled slow, but his knees still weakened, and he grabbed the back of the couch to stay upright. Natasha flashed him a concerned look, then turned back to Tony.

“I do not recognise name.” she mumbled.

“New friend, potential ally.”

“Where did you meet this potential ally?”

Tony grimaced, and his neck pulled tight. “The pits.”

“You bring some blood-lusting dog to our villa.”

Tony raised his hands to calm her. “He has favour with Pierce.”

“And?”

“Pierce has favour with Emperor.”

Natasha hummed, the nodded. “I see.”

Tony rubbed at the dark hair on his chin. “Brock will bring wife, she spoke fondly of you, friends in childhood.”

Natasha stiffened, and rose from the couch. “Who is wife?”

“Sharon.”

“Sharon Carter.” Natasha snapped, “There is no fondness, only burning hatred, and desire to see the other one fall.”

Tony wagged his finger in the air. “Brock, Peirce, Emperor. You must be fair to wife.”

“If she is fair, I will be fair in return.”

Tony pressed his hands together and bowed slightly. “Crazy wife, gods led me to the pits, and there I share words with Brock. It is our path to the games, to more wealth and glory. Do not fall at first hurdle.”

“Fine.” Natasha hissed. “I will not smash Sharon’s skull on villa floor.”

Tony finished his bow, then smiled. “We have path to Rome set before our eyes.” He turned to the courtyard and when his eyes found Steve, he sighed. “And a god to fight in our name.”

He twirled, flicking up his white tunic and strolled away. Natasha tensed her shoulders and shook her head.

“Why the gods put Sharon in path,” she hissed. “Twisted game.”

Natasha turned back to Bucky and glanced down at his hand clutched around the back of the couch. She rushed to his side and gripped his face.

“You are pale.”

He didn’t need her to tell him, he physically felt the colour drain from his face. He couldn’t feel the sun beating down on his back, couldn’t feel the humidity of the air, only an intense coldness that wrapped around him. His teeth chattered together, and he gritted them to stop the tapping.

“I’m getting the medicus.”

Bucky forced his teeth to part, then shook his head. “No, Domina. Low mood, that is all.”

She frowned and studied his face. “Do you need drink?”

Bucky clutched at the escape and nodded. “Yes, Domina.”

Natasha continued to frown. “Then have drink.”

Bucky bowed in gratitude and moved past her to get to the jug. He poured himself a cup of water and forced it past his lips and down his throat. He worried it would return with added bile and steadied his hand on his stomach.

Brock Rumlow. Bucky prayed he wouldn’t remember Bucky’s face; he had never seen it absent of filth and bruises. It had been six years since Bucky was last ordered to lay with him. He looked different now, and he hoped Brock would be different, hoped his wife would’ve softened the sharpness of his cruelty. He felt eyes watching him from the courtyard, knew Steve was staring, but he didn’t turn at the pull of his eyes, he refused him.

 

The nerves were so all-consuming, Bucky barely noticed Steve in the room. He startled back and looked at him accusingly. Steve didn’t glance his way as he made a point of ignoring Bucky. His feet were shackled, as were his wrists, and chains held both to a pillar in the centre of the room. A piece of cloth had been shoved in his mouth and tied around the back of his neck to gag him.

Bruises still lingered on his face, but the scratch marks to his chest had healed to faint lines of pink. He kept his chin high, and his face turned in the opposite direction to Bucky. Bucky didn’t have time to be angry, he rocked back on his heels, then forward on his tip-toes attempting to calm his pounding heart.

Natasha strolled in to the room and clicked her fingers. Bucky moved to her side, and she pressed her palm to his forehead. “I do hope low mood has improved?”

He forcibly swallowed, then nodded. “Yes, Domina.”

She squeezed his chin before releasing him. “Good, your smile, and your eyes will be the only light once Sharon strolls in room.”

As if on cue, the guards opened the doors to the villa. Tony stood closest to greet the guests, and Natasha hovered behind. Bucky took an involuntary step back at the sight of Brock.  He still looked the same, small eyes sunk back in his face, hair in disarray, and lips cracked. He was dressed in a storm-grey tunic, and the rope around his waist was black and frayed.

“She wore my colour.” Natasha hissed under her breath.

Bucky dragged his gaze from Brock to Sharon. Her hair was long and blonde, and she kept a generous amount of breast on display. The gown barely concealing her was deep red in colour, and with Natasha slightly in front of him, Bucky could see it was exactly the same shade as her hair. Natasha had chosen a green gown, bought with Steve’s winnings.

Guards followed the guests inside the villa, and two of their slaves walked forward with their eyes to the floor. One held a jug of what Bucky suspected was wine.

Sharon separated herself from her husband and strode forward. She gasped at her dress than looked to Natasha’s hair.

“We match! I forgot the redness of your hair, assumed age would’ve dulled colour, unless you wear wig?”

Natasha combed her hair back with her fingers. “No wig, I assure.”

Sharon nodded. “Shame, could have changed colour to avoid clash.”

“You could’ve worn other gown.”

Sharon pouted and stared down at her exposed breasts. “Washed especially, your husband favoured sight at the pits.”

A soft laugh escaped Sharon, and she scampered back to Brock’s side. Natasha took a step forward, then stilled. Bucky couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the furious breaths being forced in and out of her nose. Her frame shook with anger, and when she turned to Bucky he widened his eyes at the sight of her, twitchy and unfocused.

“Bucky, bring wine.”

Tony had requested they wait for wine until their guests had finished the tour of the villa and the ludus, but he could see Natasha needed it. He bowed and moved to the table. He poured her a drink, but when he moved to return to her, Brock was introducing himself. He smiled, he bowed, and then accepted a kiss on his cheek from Natasha. Bucky’s stomach sloshed with unease, and he stared down at the glass in his hand, tempted to knock it back himself.

He did not work in that house anymore, did not cower under the rule of a sadistic Domius. He had a Domina who adored him, blurred the lines of slave and master. He lifted his chin, took a deep breath and puffed out his chest before walking to her side. She hastily gripped the glass and took a sip.

Sharon snorted. “You need wine to stop trembling at my presence, just like years before?”

Natasha paused with the cup on her lips. She glared so furiously at Sharon, Bucky couldn’t help but envy her ferociousness. They talked of beasts in Rome, whose eyes were focused, and claws were sharp, but they had nothing on his Domina. She lowered the cup and tilted the contents left to right.

“I did not tremble—”

“You wanted my approval that bad, your hand, and voice, shook.”

Sharon pressed her hand to her chest and laughed softy. Tony and Brock joined her laughing, blind to the tension by the sight of her exposed breasts. Natasha tightened her hand around the cup, and Bucky feared it would break.

“I am no longer simple child.”

“Still you drink wine to cure nerves.” Sharon said, still smiling.

Natasha rested her nose on the cup and sniffed the scent of wine into her lungs. “I need sweet wine to fix bitter scent in air.” She frowned, then cocked her head. “No bitterness until you arrived, how strange.”

Sharon narrowed her eyes but didn’t drop her smile. “I bring more exotic wine as gift.”

“I imagine it is weak and lacking depth like all the wine from Rome.”

Sharon frowned. “Neither weak, nor lacking depth. You can try and see if it comes close to the sweet wine you favour.”

“I doubt it.” Natasha snapped, then sipped from her cup.

Natasha and Sharon continued to trade concealed insults, with their husbands smiling along oblivious. Bucky relaxed when Brock’s gaze didn’t linger. He ignored him the same as the rest of the slaves. The passage of time had served Bucky well, and Brock no longer knew his face.

 Brock smirked, then flicked his chin in Steve’s direction.

“He still stands strong, with lifted head.”

Tony nodded in agreement. “He does not bow for anyone.”

Brock drew his eyebrows together. “He must bow for his Dominus.”

Tony shuffled, cleared his throat, then shouted to Steve. “Drop head, and study floor.”

Steve didn’t move, he continued to stare into a dark corner of the villa with his chin raised.

Brock laughed. “As I thought, not a gladiator, but a disloyal centurion in chains.”

“Come.” Tony huffed, gesturing with his hand for them to follow, “I will show villa, then ludus.”

Brock raised his hand. “I wish to gaze at your monster longer. Wife will go on tour and describe sights of worth when she returns.”

Tony’s mouth bobbed open and closed, then he nodded. “Very well.”

Sharon hurried after Tony, and Natasha glared at her then down the contents of the cup. She held it out to Bucky.

“More wine, await my return.”

Bucky froze at the thought of being alone with Brock but he turned to find him gazing at Steve, not paying Bucky any attention.

Bucky moved back to the table and poured the wine into Natasha’s cup. Brock stared at Steve, then smirked and moved to stand in his line of sight. Steve turned away, and Brock laughed again.

“We can play game all day.” He muttered.

Steve breathed out harshly though his nose, which only made Brock laugh more. He looked irritated, like Brock was buzzing around him like an annoying fly he couldn’t swat. The chains around Steve’s ankles clunked on the tiles.

“Did you enjoy time in the pit? Did you get a taste for blood in air and enjoy sound of snapping bone?”

Steve didn’t answer, he continued to evade eye contact with Brock, and shuffled foot to foot making his chains rattle against the floor.

Brock pulled his eyes from Steve and took a step closer to Bucky. “Well, did you?”

Bucky blinked back to awareness and forced himself to swallow. Brock’s eyes were unblinking, and his lip curled exposing his yellowed teeth. He smirked, then stretched his hand out at Bucky, curling his fingers to his palm to coax him over.

“Do you miss the pits?” Brock whispered.

Bucky didn’t reply, and he didn’t move. He kept his stance with his back straight and his chin high. The way Natasha liked him to stand, like he was proud of his position at her side. There were guards, both Brock’s and Tony’s but they averted their gazes. The two slaves that had accompanied Sharon shuffled, and their faces scrunched with worry. Not one person in the room would come to Bucky’s aid, they were not allowed to challenge a guest.

Brock snorted and shook his head. “I miss watching victors fuck you into floor.” He shut his eyes and groaned as if remembering a sordid dream. “What a sight, what a sound, nothing hardens my cock quicker than the thought of you.”

Bucky shuddered, and rolled his shoulders, but he didn’t lower his head. He wasn’t a whore anymore. Natasha took care of him, promised he would never have to spread his legs for the entertainment of Romans again. Brock smacked his lips together and dropped his beckoning hand. He decided to close the distance himself and took a step nearer.

“Do you miss your old master, and the fun times we shared under his roof?”

Bucky bit down on his tongue and tightened his hands into fists. His nails bit harshly into his palms, but he welcomed the pain when it stopped him from shaking. Brock continued his slow pace over to the table, he licked his lips, and Bucky shivered at the sight of his curling tongue.

“If Tony becomes firm friend, he may allow us time alone. He may take you to the pit at my say, may be convinced by my tongue to offer you as reward.” 

Brock took the final step, and Bucky couldn’t help but lower his head. He heard the clank of chains, imagined them tight around his wrists and ankles. He couldn’t move away, they were too heavy for his tired limbs to struggle against. He could only stay still and hope for the ordeal to be over quick. The tunic at his shoulder was tugged, exposing the star etching. Brock traced the shape with his finger and hummed as if savouring a desired taste.

“You can wear an unsoiled tunic, stand in a villa that is not stained with scent of sex and sweat, but you are still a whore.” Brock bit his lip, then released it with a pop. “A sought-after whore, who has plagued my thoughts and fantasies for years.”

He brushed his fingers along Bucky’s collar bone, up Bucky’s neck before cupping his jaw. “Meeting your master, his invite to villa, it’s blessing from the gods. They favour me and have returned long missed pleasure.”

Brock’s thumb stroked against Bucky’s lip, seeking entry. Bucky pressed his lips firmly together not allowing Brock’s thumb to pass through. Brock smirked and dug his nail down, harder, until pain spiked. The nail broke the skin, and Bucky felt the warm seep of blood, but he didn’t soften his lips to allow the thumb inside.

Brock removed his hand from Bucky’s face, and sucked his blood-stained thumb. He hummed at the taste, then released a moan. Bucky shivered, and looked to the door, wanting Natasha to return. Brock grabbed his chin, shook his head, and moved to block the sight of escape.

“Such pretty eyes, but absent of lines of pain. The red splits in your whites make the blue clearer. I miss them”

Bucky squeezed his eyes closed and Brock grunted in displeasure. He squeezed hard on Bucky’s chin, and shook him. Bucky heard a growl, a thunderous one in the room but he didn’t open his eyes to see where it came from.

“Open eyes.”

Bucky squeezed them tighter, and tensed his body expecting to be struck. The growl in the room got louder, but Bucky was sure he was imagining it. A memory of the animals in the pits, roaring with pleasure each time they killed. They were just as vocal afterwards.

“With time, and proof of worth, I will trade coin with Tony for you. I will remove eyelids, then you cannot deny me the beauty of colour framed by pain. They will grow sore until you go blind. Mine to see, but no longer yours to see from.”

Bucky shivered, and his knees knocked together. His heart stuttered in its rhythm, his diaphragm spasmed and disturbed his breathing. His skin numbed, apart from the area Brock gripped. Bucky was sure his fingers were reshaping the bones of his jaw. The growl turned into a snarl, and Bucky shuddered at the sound. It was the sound of a man who wanted to kill, who was thirsty for it.  

“How long is tour,” Brock breathed. “And where is your master's room? I wish to have you there, wish to know when they fuck they do so on the same place we did—”

“Get your dirty fucking hand off my slave.”

Brock’s grip vanished suddenly, and Bucky heard him retreat a few steps. He kept his eyes shut, worried he would see a nightmare memory of his previous house if he opened them.

Brock laughed lightly. “Apologies.”

“You do not touch any of our slaves.”

“He was pale, I was checking he would not faint.”

“Do not take me for fool.” Natasha snapped. “I heard your words. You will fuck no one in my villa, not my slaves, not yours, and not your bitch wife. Should I tell her of your words, of your desire for my slave?”

There was silence, then Brock’s stuttered voice. “N-no need.”

“Is need when talk with filthy tongue, and touch with dirty hand.”

“Apologies.”

Natasha tutted harshly. “Not to me, but to Bucky.”

Brock growled, and Bucky felt his eyes on him again. “He is slave.”

Natasha barked a laugh. “And you are brute. You want your wife oblivious? Apologizes to Bucky.”

Brock huffed, Bucky heard his foot slap on the floor, and then he growled, “Apologies for unwanted advances, slave.”

“Now go join bitch wife on balcony.” Natasha hissed.

Bucky listened as Brock’s footsteps grew fainter, and his mutterings could no longer be deciphered.

“Bucky, open eyes.”

He did and relaxed at the sight of Natasha so close. She studied him, then pointed at his lips.

“And unstick mouth.”

Bucky released the pressure on his lips and gasped in a mouthful of air. Natasha tugged the shoulder of the tunic to hide the scar of his previous house.

“Now paleness makes sense.” Natasha whispered.

Bucky took a few deep breaths before answering. “I did not wish to trouble you with past.”

“If you troubled me, I would not have left you alone.”

She grabbed a cup, then shoved it into Bucky’s hand. “Drink, will help with nerves.”

Bucky tipped it past his lips fast, then wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. At first, he thought the smear was wine, but then he remembered the nail pressing into his lip. Natasha sighed, and rubbed her thumb over the mark.

“Bastard with his bitch, may the gods curse them.”

Bucky closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet smell of his Domina and concentrated on the feel of her hand, warm against his face. The sound of chains rattled again, and he flashed a look at his wrists, then his ankles. The only one chained in the room stood in the centre, and Bucky turned to Steve.

He was stretched out to the limits of his restraints, his chest was heaving, and his shoulders were so tense his head wobbled. He looked furious, but when their eyes met, his stance and gaze softened. A dent creased the top of his nose, and Bucky watched his throat as he swallowed. Steve flicked his chin out, and Bucky frowned. A soft growl escaped the cloth between his lips, and he shook his head trying to dislodge it.

Natasha raised her finger in warning.  “Behave, or I make guards drag you downstairs to courtyard.”

Steve relaxed his shoulders and shuffled backwards till the chains were slack.

Natasha shook her head. “Gods and their twisted games, how much must we endure to get to Rome.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen the movie....  
> and have decided fanfic and fan art is the way forward...


	5. Poison...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a bad feeling about Sharon...
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

 

Chapter 5

Sharon and Brock retuned from the balcony, arm in arm. She flicked out her blonde hair and pushed her breasts into his chest. Brock paid them no attention and led her towards the door of the villa. Tony joined Natasha’s side, with Bucky stood behind her, doing his best to stand straight, but failing miserably. Fear had drained him, and he longed to collapse into bed and scrunch his blanket to his face.

“Let us retire home.” Brock mumbled.

Sharon pouted, then shook her head. “We have not tasted wine, bought as gift.”

“They have own wine.” Brock growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sharon shook her head with a tut. “I wish to drink exotic wine with old friend.”

She spread her lips in a seductive smile and fluttered her lashes at her husband. Brock huffed, rolled his shoulders then nodded.

“Let us drink swiftly,” he growled.

Sharon laughed. “It is best way.”

She clicked her fingers and turned to the woman slave she bought with her. “Amelia. Prepare wine.”

Amelia clutched the jug to her chest and walked slowly across the room. Natasha flicked her chin out for Bucky to assist, and he walked to her with three clean cups.

“Apologies, Tony, I will bring different drink next time.”

Tony waved his hand. “No matter, more for greedy wife.”

Sharon tipped her head back and laughed to the ceiling. Natasha glared furiously at her husband, and Brock shot longing looks to the door. Bucky stole a glance at Steve, and noticed he no longer looked into a dark corner of the villa, but his eyes followed Brock’s every move. His nostrils flared, and his jaw was shifting side to side.

“It is a long road.” Brock mumbled, “and I wish to travel in light of day.”

Sharon shushed him and waved her hand towards Amelia. “After wine.”

Amelia’s hand shook as she pressed the cup meant for Natasha into Bucky’s hand. Bucky smiled in reassurance, but she stared at him with cold eyes. A crease appeared at the top of her nose, and her eyes watered as they watched each other. She didn’t take back her hand but held the cup with Bucky while her eyes became more distorted by tears. Bucky frowned, and dropped his gaze to her quivering lips, she began to whisper, but Sharon clapped in impatience.

“Amelia!”

She released the cup, then grabbed the other two for Brock and Sharon. Bucky turned his frown to the cup in his hand and studied the scarlet drink. The cup was unsettled and blurred his red reflection.

Natasha clicked her fingers. “Bucky, the quicker we drink, quicker they go back to the road.”

The quicker Brock left, Bucky thought, then hurried over and held the cup out for her to take. Sharon grinned, a triumphant grin Bucky had seen on the masters of the monsters in the pits. Brock snatched his cup, and gulped down the contents, then shoved the cup to Amelia’s chest.

“Let us leave, see each other at Steve’s first battle.”

Sharon laughed softly. “Impatient husband, wine must taste good, to breathe in rather than drink.”

“Some might say brutish behaviour.” Natasha mumbled.

Sharon lifted her cup and licked her lips. “To adequate villa.”

“Adequate?” Natasha echoed, then lowered her cup. “our villa is not adequate.”

“Comfortable.” Sharon quickly supplied. “comfortable home.”

Sharon tipped her cup and swallowed a mouthful of wine. She closed her eyes and made a sound of refreshment. Natasha narrowed her eyes, and Sharon’s narrowed in return. Bucky’s gut swelled with unease, no longer from Brock’s presence, but something clouded his mind, something sinister.

Brock huffed and stomped his foot. “Enough, I grow tired.”

“Don’t let us keep you.” Natasha muttered.

She flicked her chin out at the guards and they opened the doors. Brock strolled through without turning back, and Sharon stuttered, held up her gown and ran after him with their guards and slaves following. The doors closed behind them, but Bucky didn’t relax. His mind whirled with a veiled threat, one he couldn’t see clearly, but persisted nonetheless.

Natasha rested the cup to her lip. “Why are they invited to Steve’s first fight?”

Tony waved his hand. “Brock made promise of Pierce. We must jump hurdles to get to goal.”

Natasha snorted. “Then I hope you buy more wine for wife to cope with hurdles.”

She started to tip the cup, stretched her neck out to receive the drink, but Bucky lunged forward and tugged it from her hand. He widened his eyes and froze in horror. Natasha looked at him with equally wide eyes. Then she pulled her lip back and wrinkled her nose.

“What madness infects mind?” she snapped.

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed, but no words followed. The clouds in his mind were parting, but he wasn’t certain of what lay beyond them. A thought, that if proved wrong, would warrant severe punishment. The cup trembled in his hand, and he swallowed awkwardly.

“Speak!” Tony bellowed.

Bucky stared down at the cup, linking eyes with his blurred reflection. If the growing thought in his mind proved true, Natasha was in danger, and her life was worth more than his.

“I believe it to be poisoned.”

Natasha gasped and slapped her hand to her mouth. “Poison?”

Tony drew his eyebrows together then strolled forward. “What evidence did you see?”

Bucky swallowed uncomfortably. “I did not see with my eyes, but head.”

Tony scoffed. “Hold tongue, treacherous slave.”

Bucky snapped his mouth shut catching his tongue. Natasha was watching him, no longer angry but worried. She looked to the cup in Bucky’s hand, then his face. He pleaded with his eyes for her to believe him.

“Sharon means to poison me.”

“No!” Tony yelled, “do not believe words from foolish slave.” He snatched the cup from Bucky’s hand and stared into the red pool. “This is gift from new ally.”

“Or old enemy.” Natasha mumbled.

Tony shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I warned you. You treat him not as slave, and he acts like a Dominus. No proof of poison.”

“I will not drink wine from their hand.” Natasha whispered.

Tony growled. “Fine, husband will drink wine to prove no wrong doing, then I will punish your slave for using tongue without request.”

Tony lifted it, and Bucky jolted forward and grabbed it from his hand. Tony tried to take the cup again, but Bucky shoved him away, and retreated behind Natasha.

“Slaves die for striking their Dominus.”

“Tony!” Natasha yelled, pressing one hand to his chest, and one hand to Bucky’s. “He has not been well.”

“He will get worse with rope round fucking neck.”

Natasha placed both palms on Tony’s chest and tried to push him back. “He is of low mood.”

“I do not care. He struck me in own villa, in front of slaves, guards and gladiator.”

“Please husband, do not take him from me.”

“You show more affection for slave than husband. Like he suckled at your breast as new-born. He is not some desired child; he is not the son you long for.”

Bucky stiffened at the words and watched Natasha sag against her husband’s chest. She rested her head to Tony’s shoulder, and whispered words Bucky barely heard. “Your words are cruel.”

Tony closed his eyes, and his brow softened with lines of regret. “I did not mean them as cruelty, only to make wife see sense. He is slave, wife’s most trusted, but he still is slave who has made unfounded accusation. Who then struck Dominus, and now refuses to pass back cup.”

Bucky stared down at the wine, it bubbled in the cup with the amount his hand was shaking. His accusation, if uttered outside the villa, was enough for death, let alone pushing his Dominus’ chest.

“Do not drink.” Tony growled through his teeth.

Bucky brought the cup to his lips and tipped it back till every drop had gone. It was sweet on his tongue and flooded pleasantly down his throat. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but a buzzing refreshment was far from his mind.

Tony glared furiously at him, and Natasha watched with wide eyes expecting something to happen. Bucky ran his tongue around his mouth, savouring the lingering taste of sweet wine. Then it dawned on him that the wine might not have killed him, but he would surely die after acting against his Domina and Dominus. Natasha wouldn’t let Tony crucify him, it would be a swifter death, perhaps he was to be garrotted.

Tony lurched forward with his lips set in a snarl. Natasha held him back, but Tony pushed her aside. “Guard!”

Clint rushed over and grabbed Bucky’s arm tight.

“Take him into the courtyard.”

Natasha screamed in protest, but Tony shook his head and pushed her away. Bucky heard the growl behind him and turned to Steve. His eyes were wide and he was struggling wildly against his restraints.

A piercing pain erupted in Bucky neck. He gulped, and rubbed the scorching skin, burning not from the outside, but from within the walls of his throat. Rubbing wasn’t enough, he clutched, then clawed in desperation. The burn spread, as if fire had been poured down his throat. He curled forward and clutched at his chest. The pain was so raw and all-consuming it deafened him to the sounds of the room, all he could hear was an intense ringing in his ears.

Natasha was by him, was cradling him to her chest. Her mouth opened to shout, but Bucky heard no words and his skin was numb to her touch. The fire didn’t soften, it scorched him, using his body as fuel to burn hotter. The hot embers were pressed to his insides, held by some invisible force that Bucky couldn’t distance himself from. He no longer recognised the woman with him, or the mosaic ceiling above his head, he forgot his name, forgot the feeling of not being in pain. His lungs forgot their purpose and stopped him from taking breath, and his heart slowed in his chest until a deep ache grew in its place. All went dark, but the pain remained.

 

Awareness did not come fast. There were moments that fed through his mind and broke into his subconscious. The pain was ever present, humming in waves. But the waves lapped gently at the sound of a voice. A man’s gravelly tone talking to him. He didn’t recognise individual words; it was all a murmur, but a powerful one that blocked the hum of pain. Bucky clutched onto the voice in the dark, turned towards the source and heard it clearer. He begged for it to speak and mourned it when it faded. His bones rattled with another bout of fire in his veins, and he whined till a new pain grew in his throat.

Sometimes he pictured the colour blue, a deep blue of an ocean, one that would easily douse out the fire roasting his insides. The best relief came when he could see both the blue, and hear the murmur, but when he had both, it hurt more when they left. The pain that followed was so raw and scratching, he was sure it burned his flesh and melted his bones. He didn’t know how much more pain he could endure, but he didn’t stop enduring it.

Bucky opened his eyes, and stared up, not at the mosaic ceiling of the villa, but at cold, gray stone. The room was cold, and when he turned his head he noticed the room was open to the elements, and he could see the ludus courtyard. He was not in the villa but had been banished and his heart clenched. A thin blanket covered his chest, but it wasn’t enough to protect him from the cold.

He swung his legs off the bed and got shakily to his feet. He staggered closer to the courtyard, wincing with each step. The gladiators were fighting, and the noise of swords clashing with shields was intense. The sun beat down on them as they grunted and they kicked up the sand as they moved. It was different watching them fight from the same level, more brutal and intimidating. Sweat poured from their bodies, and they panted for air.

Bucky lowered his gaze and stared at his feet. The sun shone on them, but he couldn’t feel the heat. He hugged the blanket around himself tighter, and his teeth clattered together.

“You should not be up.”

It was the murmuring voice, but no longer muffled. Bucky closed his eyes and exhaled slowly before turning to Steve. Bucky leaned heavily on the wall behind him, it should have felt warm since it was exposed to the sun, but he couldn’t feel it.

“Am I to be killed by a gladiator’s hand?”

Steve frowned and shook his head. “No.”

Bucky moistened his dry lips, then rubbed at his head. “Then tell me why Domina has banished me?”

His eyes burned with tears, half pain half despair, and he quickly closed them. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, but it brought him no warmth or comfort. He couldn’t stop shivering, no matter how hard he tried.

“The medicus brought you here. The villa was too hot, it pained you to be inside. Domina has not sent you here out of punishment. The medicus has worked for days with no sleep, and you fought through fire, and stand the other side of it.”

Bucky kept his eyes shut and snorted. “Bet you are disappointed to see me stand.”

Silence followed, and Bucky read it as confirmation. The sting in his eyes increased, until tears leaked through his lashes. He heard Steve step closer, felt the presence of him increase, and then there was a warmth on his face. The press of a hand on his cheek, and Bucky couldn’t resist leaning into the touch.

Steve sighed sadly. “The opposite.”

Bucky didn’t open his eyes, instead he clutched his blanket with one hand and moved his other to grip Steve’s wrist. He didn’t want the warmth on his cheek to be withdrawn so he held it in place.

 “You hate me.” He whispered.

“I do not. If I could take back previous words, I would.”

Steve brushed his thumb along Bucky’s top lip, then followed the curve and traced his bottom one. Bucky didn’t press his lips together like with Brock, he kept them loose and soft for Steve to stroke.

“Open eyes.” Steve whispered.

Bucky did immediately at his command, and the tears on his lashes loosened and ran down his face. Steve pulled a pained expression and wiped them away. Bucky studied the deep blue of his irises, the colour that drowned the pain in their depths. He was grateful for both the memory of his voice, and his eyes.

“I have seen many horrors but cannot stand to see that one again.”

Bucky snorted. “I do not plan to drink more wine laced with poison.”

Steve shook his head. “You should not have drunk one.”

“I will not let my Domina fall, she is kind, and saved me from past nightmare. My life is small price.”

Steve exhaled heavily through his nose, then bowed his head. “Is big price.”

“I heard your voice.” Bucky mumbled.

“I sat by your side every day.” Steve admitted.

“And I remember your eyes.”

“I did not enjoy yours laced with pain I could not end.” Steve whispered.

“Do they look less pained now?”

Steve studied one of Bucky’s eyes, then moved his attention to the other. “Tired eyes, you need rest.”

“Yours look tired also.”

“From intense worry. Your Domina did not favour my presence at your side. She called me opportunist brute, but I swear to the gods I am not. I will not cause you pain, I will not force my body on yours, or threaten you with savage treatment.”

Bucky lifted his lips into a smile, and Steve smiled softly back. Another shiver rattled his body, and he frowned.

“What is wrong with sun? Feels like ice on skin.”

“Nothing wrong with sun,” Steve mumbled. “You must rest.”

Bucky resisted the urge to whine when Steve removed his hand. He took a step forward, but his knees gave out and Steve caught him before he hit the floor.

“Should not be up.” Steve growled.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, and Steve lifted him with ease. His body was warm, and Bucky rested his head to his chest releasing a pleased sigh.

“Your flesh is warmer than sun.”

Steve shot him a concerned look. “We must get you to the villa.”

Bucky closed his eyes, and concentrated on the warmth of Steve’s body and the hands wrapped around him. He heard Natasha shout, but his lids were too heavy to lift, and he pressed closer to Steve until he could hear the powerful thumps of his heart.

“He is cold,” Steve muttered. “The sun cannot warm him.”

Natasha growled. “Then I shall order bath to be filled, put him down on couch.”

Bucky clutched at Steve’s neck, and refused when he tried to detach them. The scent of Steve’s sweat, and the heat of his skin were more pleasurable than any bath, and he wasn’t going to let him leave for the pain to surface with vengeance.

Natasha huffed loudly. “Sit with him until bath is run.”

Bucky didn’t hear anything after, but his lips lifted in a contented smile, and he relaxed with Steve’s warmth around him.

 

 

 


	6. Steve's first fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's first fight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for kudos and comments, I feel loved lol <3 which is a very nice feeling.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

 

Chapter 6

Bucky could feel Natasha's gaze heavily on the side of his face. He flashed her a reassuring smile and she settled into her chair.

“If you feel faint, you must speak up.”

She wore more jewellery than usual, and her hair was tied back. The gown she wore hugged her body but put nothing on display. She looked good, elegantly sexual. Tony sat beside her, picking at his nails and bouncing his foot off the floor. “Wife does fuss.”

“Husband does fidget.”

Tony grimaced, and dropped his hands into his lap. “Today is a big day.”

The amphitheatre filled fast around them. The first stand was for the more elite members of society, followed by the men, then finally the women and children at the top. The arena in front of them was dusty and unmarked by blood. Tony had called it perfect for his god's first battle.

The bustle of people increased, and Bucky’s nerves tripled. The seats beside Tony were meant for Brock, Sharon, and Pierce. Natasha swore to him he wouldn’t be left alone with Brock again, but Brock could shed the clothes from Bucky’s body with one filthy stare. He didn’t want to cower and disappoint his Domina, but every thought of Brock made his stomach clench and his spine curl.

“Just focus on Steve.” Natasha mumbled to him.

Bucky nodded subtly and looked straight ahead. Steve was somewhere below, waiting to be called, but Bucky stared as if he were standing in the centre of the arena, staring back. They had only shared fleeting looks since he was poisoned, but each one left Bucky feeling heated, a different kind of fever that appeared in a flash, only to pass when Steve stopped looking.

“I wish bitch Sharon was thrown into the arena,” Natasha muttered.

Tony turned to her fast and hushed her. “Watch tongue!”

“Do not tell me to watch tongue, only due to Bucky mine did not burn at her poison.”

Tony opened his mouth to argue then snapped it shut. He raised his eyes to Bucky and flicked his chin out. It was the only form of gratitude Bucky was going to get from Tony and he accepted it with a gracious bow.

Natasha took a different approach to his poisoning. She brought him knew tunics and ran him more baths. He gratefully accepted, but they didn’t warm him the same way Steve’s body did. He longed to attach himself to Steve’s muscular chest again, and be lifted off the ground. He thought desire for another would never resurface, but he lusted for Steve’s arms, his chest, and the strong scent of his sweat and the dust he fought on.

“Wine.”

Bucky lurched to attention, and quickly took the glass from his Domina's hand. He filled it with the jug he had brought with him. When he wasn’t pouring, he held his hand over the top to be certain nothing sinister could fall inside. Natasha smiled fondly when she saw and bowed her head.

The tunic Bucky wore was deep red, and Natasha had smudged black on his eyelids. A gold chain dangled around his neck, showing his importance to his Domina. He felt treasured, and had they have been walking through the market, or in the villa, Bucky would’ve been pleased, but they were waiting for Sharon and Brock to arrive, and that stirred up terror.

There was movement to his left, Bucky heard feet slapping on the stone, then Brock’s irritated voice.

“Apologies, for our lateness.”

Tony stood, and bowed. “No need for apologies. Where is Pierce?”

“He will be here soon.”

Bucky didn’t turn towards Brock and Sharon, and neither did Natasha. A whiff of strong perfume registered in his nose as Sharon moved towards them. Unlike his Domina, Sharon wore her assets on display. Her waist was pinched to an unnatural narrowness, and her breasts spilled out from her gown. She gripped Bucky’s hand and scrunched her brow.

“There is still pain in your eyes.”

“He withered in agony for days,” Natasha said through her teeth.

“But he still stands.”

“He has a young heart, if I consumed poison, I would not have stood the other side of it.”

 “Had I have known Amelia had poisoned your drink—” Sharon stopped, and pressed her palm to her chest. “It despairs the mind to know trusted slave betrayed me. Tried to take my dear friend.”

“Friend,” Natasha hissed, turning away.

Sharon dropped her gaze to Natasha and pouted her lips. “You do not believe my innocence?”

Natasha didn’t answer; instead she raised the wine glass in her hand and took an audible sip.

Sharon shuddered and backed away a step. “I did not poison wine. Amelia paid high price for her betrayal.”

Nausea swelled in Bucky’s stomach, and it took all his willpower not to shiver. He knew Amelia was dead, used as a scapegoat for Sharon’s plan.

Many volatile arguments had erupted in the villa between Natasha and Tony. She didn’t want anything to do with Sharon and Brock, but he saw their worth. They were the path to Rome, and it was only confirmed in his mind when Brock invited Pierce to Steve’s first fight above ground. Natasha gave in to the desires of her husband, but warned him if Sharon pushed her, she would push back harder, over a high balcony.

Natasha stood suddenly, and Bucky blinked his way back to the present. She leaned forward and kissed an elderly man on the cheeks. The tunic he wore screamed expense, and he smiled smugly. Bucky knew he was Pierce without hearing his introduction. His forehead was marked with deep lines of age, and his lips were thin.

“Not the amphitheatres I am used to,” He muttered.

“The fight, the fight will be worth uncomfortable seating,” Tony said quickly.

Pierce lifted an eyebrow. “Let us hope.”

He settled in the seat beside Tony, and Sharon scampered back down the row to sit with Brock. Bucky closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. All he had to do was stare ahead and wait for Steve.

When Steve walked out onto the arena, Bucky finally understood why Tony referred to him as a god. Training in the ludus, he wore a loin cloth, and trained with a wooden shield and sword, but in the arena he looked like a different man.

He appeared from the shadows, and when the sun struck him, his armour shined. A round shield wasn’t unusual for gladiators, but the one Steve held was bigger, and by the look of it, heavier. Straps ran across his muscular chest, securing his shoulder guards, and his chin guard flashed silver as he moved. He twirled a gladius in his hand, and the blade dazzled in the sun. He didn’t look like a man training in the ludus, but a strong gladiator ready for battle.

Pierce hummed and tapped his finger to his chin. “He does not wear helmet?”

Tony shook his head. “I want the face of my god to be seen.”

Pierce raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Let’s hope it’s not swiped off.”

Steve’s flesh gleamed in the sun, and his blond hair appeared lighter. Bucky’s heart thumped behind his ribs, an excited thump that he couldn’t help. The nausea in his stomach morphed into butterflies at the sight of Steve, then turned to the unsettled buzzing of anxiety. Steve was there to fight, there was a possibility he would be hurt.

Steve looked around the stands and froze when he saw Bucky. Their eyes met, but Steve’s lacked any emotion. He looked to Natasha, to Tony, and Pierce, then his stare locked on Brock. Steve narrowed his eyes, and a fierce dent appeared at the top of his nose. He wore the expression of a man who wanted to kill.

The challenger appeared, and the crowd roared. Steve took his time turning to face the man wielding the trident.

The opponent was the same height as Steve but not as muscular. In one hand he held the trident, three sharpened points desperate to sink into flesh, and in the other hand, he held a net to trap, and capture. He had little armour, able to move quickly and evade the slashing motions of the gladius. It was rare that a gladiator was both strong and fast, and with Steve’s first open air fight, they matched his strength against the trident fighter’s speed.

The fight began, and Bucky scrunched his eyes shut. He had never enjoyed watching men battle in the pits. He knew he was a hypocrite for asking Steve to fight and kill but being unable to stomach watching the spectacle. His previous master had made him watch, had demanded he open his eyes and drink in the sight of blood and violence. Natasha didn’t force him.

Instead, he listened to the sound of the crowd. The hissing, the gasping, the stomping of feet on the wooden stands. Tony didn’t speak, and Bucky didn’t know if it was a good sign or not. He breathed as calmly as he could, and when the scent of blood wafted towards him, he opened his lips and breathed through his nose not to smell it. He hated the scent of blood, it always led back to memories of his previous house.

Loud applause travelled around the amphitheatre, and Bucky shivered knowing the fight was done. He didn’t know the victor, feared knowing in case Steve had fallen. He curled his fingers into his palms, and sunk his nails into his flesh to ground himself.

“He certainly can fight,” Pierce mumbled.

Bucky gasped and opened his eyes. Steve stood in the centre of the arena with the bloodied trident wielder at his feet. It wasn’t a fight to the death like in the pits, but the victory was for the man still standing when the other lay motionless.

Steve no longer held his sword, only his blood splattered shield. He didn’t pant or heave for breath, but rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck left to right. The dirt and blood dulled the gleam of his flesh but highlighted the lines of his muscles. A whole array of emotions assaulted Bucky, starting with relief, and ending in lust.

Steve was an absolute picture of calmness, and when the trident wielder raised his hand to Steve, Steve grasped it tightly and bowed his head.

“He did not use his sword but his shield to attack. I have not seen a man fight that way.”

“Not a man, but a god.”

Bucky turned to Tony, noting his hands clasped tightly together, and his eyes streaming with awe. Natasha grimaced, shrugged, then took another sip of her wine. Pierce leaned forward in his seat, rubbing at his chin with his smug smile still in place.

“He could be…”

Steve glanced up, and Bucky met his gaze. His heart beat frantically, and the tickly feeling of butterflies returned. Bucky’s lips twitched into a half smile, but Steve didn’t return it. His eyes tracked past Natasha, Tony and Pierce and resettled on Brock.

He narrowed his eyes and strode forward. He kneeled, picked his sword off the dust and launched it into the stands. Bucky’s jaw dropped in shock, as he saw the sword sailing through the air intent on severing Brock’s head. Pierce reacted in a flash of movement, tugging Brock aside.

Sharon squealed, Brock grunted, and the sword made a pinging sound as it vibrated in the back of the chair. Tony stood, shaking his head. His eyes were wide, and he muttered incoherently.

“Your gladiator is a dead man!” Brock hissed, crouching on the floor.

All the giddy butterflies inside Bucky stilled, and his heart skipped a beat. Steve would be killed for such an act of defiance. Bucky’s emotional state hit one extreme and then the next. He wobbled on his feet, and gripped the back of Natasha’s chair. She glanced up at him, unlike the horror on Tony’s face, she seemed pleased by Steve’s behaviour. Her smile fell when she saw Bucky looking stricken.

Natasha gripped his hand, and her thumb swiped the blooded marks on his palm. He didn’t fight when she uncurled his hand, and her eyes grew watery when she saw the marks. They didn’t gush but were half-moons of red on his pale skin.

“Why?” she mouthed.

Bucky glanced quickly at Steve, and she frowned, then released his hand.

“Apologies.” Tony gasped, “Apologies, he will be punished.”

“I will ensure head is struck from fucking shoulders,” Brock spat.

Pierce chuckled. “Your god is untamed.”

“He is animal,” Sharon screamed.

Pierce laughed harder. “I like him even more. I wish to see him closer.”

Tony reclaimed his jaw. “What?”

“Do ears not work. I wish to marvel at your god. Tonight, your villa.”

“I want him strung up for me to beat, and spit at,” Brock snarled.

Pierce snorted. “Invitation is not extended to you. I wish to see Steve alone.”

Natasha stood, and ushered Bucky out of the stands.

“Cra—wife is eager to prepare for your arrival,” Tony said quickly.

“I look forward to it.” Pierce said, shaking Tony’s hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Steve makes an agreement with Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony realizes the fondness between Steve and Bucky...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and the kudos! <3  
> I've had a pretty terrible week, so any positive vibes sent my way will be muchly appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

Chapter 7

“Did Brock throw sinister looks your way?” Natasha asked.

Bucky bit his lip, until she released it from his pinch of teeth with her finger.

“Speak.”

 “Brock did not look at me once.”

Natasha gripped his wrist and held it high. She studied the marks on his palm, then shook her head. “Then why do this.”

Bucky swallowed awkwardly. “They are small marks.”

“They are wounds to your flesh. Why?”

“I—I was worried about the fight.”

Natasha released his wrist and took a step back. A troubled frown marred her brow. “It reminded you of previous master…I will not subject you to further fights, I will take Greta in your stead—”

“No!” Bucky blurted. “I wish to accompany you.”

“Not if it brings back bad memories.”

Bucky shook his head. “It wasn’t that. I was worried about the fight, worried for Steve.”

“Steve?” Natasha whispered.

Bucky dropped his gaze to his feet. “Yes. I did not want to see him fall. Did not want to see him hurt.”

Natasha reached and lifted his chin. He refused her eyes, and she squeezed his chin harder until he looked at her. They stared at each other, and her eyes grew wider. She saw something in the depths of Bucky’s, saw his desire, and released him, and turned away.

“Clint, take Bucky to the medicus.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but she strolled away without glancing back.

“Come on Bucky, let us hope Bruce is in a good mood.”

Bucky strolled into the medicus’ room staring at the floor. Clint tapped his shoulder and he looked up quick. Tony was there, standing next to Steve. Bruce wiped the blood from Steve’s chest, then shook his head.

“Not a wound on him.” Bruce muttered.

“Must be big fucking wound in head to throw sword at crowd,” Tony muttered, then turned, and frowned at Bucky. “Why are you not in villa?”

“Domina sent me for treatment on hands.”

Tony stepped forward and flicked his chin out. Bucky held his hands up for him to see.

“Nothing but marks of splinter. Wife is too soft.”

Bucky shuffled, and not knowing what else to do, bowed. “Domina is kind.”

“Kind to some, not so much to others,” Tony smirked. “Bruce, I wish for you to accompany me into the villa. I have an ingrown hair that needs your expertise.”

“Of course, Dominus.”

“Clint, gate.”

Clint bowed and rushed past to open the gate to the villa. Tony walked with his guards following.

Bruce grabbed a pot off the nearest shelf. He sniffed at the contents, grimaced, then handed it to Bucky.

“Honey for the wounds.”

Bucky took the pot. “Gratitude.”

Bruce stared at him, then the pots on the shelf. “Do not touch anything else in here.”

“Bruce!” Tony yelled.

He flared his nostrils then rushed away. “Coming, Dominus.”

Steve frowned. “Why the suspicion?”

Bucky flicked his chin at the pots. “I once replaced medicine with mice shit.”

Steve snorted, and his lips lifted into a smile. The blue of his eyes brightened with his smile, and he looked younger. Bucky glared at the rare sight, unable to return the smile. All he could do was gawp like an unflattering fish.

The happy expression on Steve’s face dropped suddenly and he stepped forward.

“Who did wounds to hands?”

Bucky swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “I did.”

Steve scrunched his brow and shook his head. “Why?”

“I was worried for you.”

“Worried for me?” Steve snapped. “Stupid.”

Bucky frowned fiercely and pressed his teeth together. “Stupid?” he growled. “I am not stupid. You are stupid.”

Steve chuckled savagely. “You worry for me? I am not the one who stands yards from his tormentor.”

 “No, you stand in the arena and fend off foe.”

“A foe I can fight.”

Steve reached for Bucky’s hand, but he yanked it away. Steve’s nostril’s flared, and his eyes rounded. Then as swiftly as his anger appeared, it dispersed, and he sagged forward.

“Apologies.” He mumbled.

Bucky opened his mouth, but no words followed. Instead of speaking, he offered his hand for Steve to take. Steve studied the marks before lifting Bucky’s hand to his mouth and kissing his palm. Bucky’s breath hitched at the feel of gentle lips, and when Steve lifted his head a soft smile spread on his lips.

“You must not harm yourself again.”

Bucky drew his eyebrows together. “It is not something I thought to do, it happened.”

“You must resist such urge. I will not be able to concentrate if I think you are in pain.”

“What of you? Throwing sword in crowd? You are lucky to keep your head.”

Steve sighed slowly through his nose. “How did you put it…It was not something I thought to do…it happened.”

“Well it must not again.” Bucky mumbled.

Steve turned away and let go of Bucky’s hand. “I wish to see that animal die.”

Bucky shook his head. “If you succeed, you would be killed, and ludus stark would fall. I would be sold to previous master.”

Steve rolled his shoulders. “Brock is one of a list of many?”

“Many have hurt me,” Bucky mumbled. “Until I came here.”

“I wish to kill them all.”

Bucky closed his eyes. “It would not vanish memories.”

A silence hummed between them, not unpleasant, but the quiet Bucky needed after the stress of the morning. A warm palm cupped his face, and he leaned into its hold. Steve moved his hands higher, until Bucky felt his thumbs resting on his eyelids. He remembered Brock’s threat and shuddered. Steve snatched his hands back.

“How do I vanish such bad memories?” Steve asked.

Bucky licked his lips but didn’t open his eyes. “By replacing them with happier ones.”

The gate clunked, and Bucky startled. Steve didn’t react to the sudden sound; he only moved away and stared into the courtyard.

“Come, Bucky,” Clint said.

Bucky flashed a final look at Steve’s back, before following Clint to the gate.

 

Steve was chained by his ankles and wrists to a pillar. A rag gagged him, much to Pierce’s amusement. Tony lounged on a couch, and Pierce sat on another with his hands steepled. They munched on grapes as they studied Steve. He stood the same way he had when Brock and Sharon visited. Chin raised, chest pushed out, and head turned away from his master. He stared with no emotion, and no matter what Pierce muttered at him, he didn’t react.

Natasha rolled her eyes and ordered Bucky to get her hair brush. She sat on a chair in front of him and removed the pins that kept her hair in place. The strands were soft running through his fingers and filled the air around her with a sweet smell. Any knot Bucky found he brushed gently to remove the tangles. There was something calming about brushing his Domina’s hair. She sighed, and relaxed, and he felt the tension in his body lessening with each stroke.

“He would thrill those in Rome,” Pierce mumbled.

Tony sat up fast. “You think the emperor would consider him for the games?”

Pierce tapped his wine glass to his chin, then shook his head. “Not as he is.”

Tony frowned and flapped his hand towards Steve. “Have you not seen a more impressive looking gladiator? The way he fights is unique, strong and fast. The crowds will love him, the women will want his cock, the men will desire his strength.”

Pierce raised his hand, and Tony’s jaw snapped shut. “A gladiator respects his master. Steve does not respect you, why would he? He was a centurion, a soldier.”

Tony squeezed the top of his nose. “So, I pay coin for fleeting hope. Nothing but fantasy.”

Pierce shook his head. “Steve is not a lost cause. He needs discipline, or reward. What does he fight for?”

Tony shook his head. “Fight for?”

“Is it coin? Fame? Women? Saving his name?”

“He fights for nothing. I have offered him coin, he pushes it back through bars. I offer him women and he refuse advances. He does not care for his name, or for fame.”

Pierce frowned fiercely. “Then not a reward, but punishment. Does he have family, friends? Beat them savagely until he fights.”

“No Family, no friends.”

“Can you not whip him to behave?”

“Physical punishment does nothing.”

Pierce clacked his tongue. “There must be something. A reward or punishment.”

Tony shook his head. “Not one I can see. He merely exists.”

Pierce plucked a grape from the vine and squished it between his thumb and forefinger.

“He was a soldier, the idea of death does not scare, yet he fights. If he’s not fighting for himself, he must be fighting for something, or someone, and we both know it is not you. Think, Tony.”

Tony dropped his gaze to his restless hands, then his body stilled.

“Wait.” He whispered.

Pierce flicked his chin out. “What is it?”

Tony turned slowly and looked at Natasha. Bucky saw the subtle shake of her head, meant for Tony to understand. Tony frowned, then squeezed his eyes shut.

“Your muteness bores me.” Pierce muttered.

Tony looked at Pierce and sighed wearily. “When our slave grew sick, Steve worried for him. The most emotion he has ever shown came when slave dropped to the floor in agony.”

“We were all shocked,” Natasha said. “His collapse was most unexpected.”

Pierce waved Natasha’s comment away. “This slave, is she a pretty little thing, innocent and sweet?”

Tony swallowed uncomfortably. “Not a she, but a he…”

Pierce widened his eyes. “Well, send for him.”

Tony turned slowly and grimaced in Bucky’s direction. Natasha stood abruptly and blocked him from view. “I do not want you messing with slave for the sake of that brute.”

Pierce sighed. “We merely try to find solution to current problem. You want to get to Rome, buy bigger villa, have more expensive food, and richer wine. You can have that if you put collar on Steve. Make him fight for Ludus stark.”

Natasha shook her head. “Not at the expense of my slave.”

Pierce got to his feet and glared at Natasha. “You speak like slave is equal. Slaves are slaves, and neither I, nor the emperor, would want to share words with others that do not think the same.”

Natasha dropped back into her chair and turned her head. Tony raised his eyebrow and clicked his fingers.

“Dominus,” Bucky said, moving to his side.

Pierce chuckled softly, “This the one?”

“Yes,” Tony said, “this slave got reaction.”

Pierce brushed his sticky fingers together then strode towards Bucky. He grabbed his face and tilted him left to right.

“What clear eyes, and smooth skin.” Pierce snorted, then ran his thumb against Bucky’s mouth. “And plump lips…He is of good health?”

Tony nodded. “He recovered from fierce poison.”

Pierce bunched his lips together and hummed.

“Reward or punishment?” Pierce muttered, “we shall test reward first.”

He released Bucky’s chin, then shoved him aggressively towards Steve. He stumbled and collided with Steve’s solid chest. The chains around Steve’s ankles and wrists rattled, but he didn’t look down at Bucky pressed to his body. His nostrils pulsed as he stared into a dark corner of the villa.

Pierce grabbed Bucky’s shoulder, and forced him to his knees. Bucky yelped when his knee caps hit the hard tiles of the villa floor.

“Reward,” Pierce growled. “Use mouth.”

“I must protest!” Natasha yelled. “He is no sex slave.”

Pierce pinched the top of his nose, swaying his head. “The softness of women, maybe it is best you leave the room.”

“I will not leave!” Natasha snapped.

Tony forced a cough to get Natasha’s attention. “I wish to learn how to train gladiator from more experienced man. Hold tongue, wife.”

Natasha growled, cursed her husband's name, and then fell silent.

Pierce sighed and gripped Bucky by the hair. “Not his cock, not when delicate women weep at such thoughts. Kiss his stomach, see if you can get him to rise.”

Pierce released him, and Bucky shuffled forward. He glanced up to Steve, but he continued to stare off in the distance with his face an unemotional mask.

“Now,” Pierce snapped, “Or we skip reward and move to punishment.”

Bucky sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and leaned closer to Steve. He ran his hands up the back of Steve’s legs to steady himself and sat up on his knees. The flesh beneath his hands was hot and firm and his hands slipped part way under Steve’s loin cloth. Bucky felt the smoothness of Steve’s ass, and his throat dried, making it hard to swallow.

“Put lips on body,” Pierce growled. “Is slave stupid?”

“No,” Tony whispered. “Proceed, Bucky…”

Bucky shook as he bent forward, and his lips trembled as he pressed them to Steve’s flat stomach. He didn’t like the eyes watching him, the only person in the room he wanted to look at him faced away.

Bucky closed his eyes and blocked out the presence of the others in the room. Steve, that was all he allowed himself to think of.

 Steve’s flesh radiated warmth, and as Bucky kissed above Steve’s belly button, he shoved his nose as close to Steve’s flesh as it could go. He breathed in the scent of sweat, of dust, and the distinctive masculine smell of Steve himself. It affected him faster than any substance from the medicus, and he kissed firmer, opening his mouth to suck Steve’s flesh inside.

Steve’s firm stomach twitched at the attention, and Bucky felt his breathing change. No longer calm and slow, Steve breathed fast, and forcefully. Bucky used his tongue, and licked patches of Steve’s skin. He tasted of salt, and the texture was soft, tantalising on his tongue. He didn’t suck hard enough to leave red marks on Steve’s skin, but just the thought of his saliva, drying on perfection, turned Bucky on.

He kneaded Steve’s ass cheeks, unaware he was doing so, and then when he realised, he didn’t stop. He scratched with his nails and felt Steve shiver. His ass was firm and tensed against Bucky’s massaging hands. Bucky kissed hard, and soft gasps escaped him each time he pulled back for air. This was lust, and desire, and he lost himself to the smell and taste of Steve, and as time went by, sound joined his sparking senses. Steve breathed harshly through his nose, and even with the gag in his mouth, throaty groans escaped the material.

Bucky could practically smell Steve’s lust, and his own, and it drove him wild with desire. He wanted Steve’s cock, in his hands, in his mouth and pushing deep inside his body.

The room sharpened with a sudden jolt to his hair. Bucky moaned, loving the feeling, then he stilled when he realised it wasn’t Steve’s hand in his hair. He flashed a look to his right, and saw Pierce with his eyes wide, and his lips spread smugly.

“Enough.”

Pierce pulled Bucky back by the hair, and he went easily. He sunk his teeth into his lip as his face flamed with embarrassment, and he didn’t dare flash a glance at Natasha’s direction.

He slowly lifted his gaze to see Steve. His cheeks were red, his body heaved, and Bucky was convinced he could see his pulse pushing against the skin of his throat. No longer the strong athlete of the arena, but worn down by a kiss to his stomach.

“Now let us see.” Pierce smirked.

He moved forward, gripped the edge of Steve’s loin cloth, and tugged hard. It fell away and Bucky’s eyes bulged at the sight. Natasha gasped behind him, and Tony forcefully cleared his throat. Steve was fully erect, and sticky at the tip. He shuffled in his restraints and closed his eyes in an extended blink. He didn’t look to Bucky but stared back into the dark corner of the villa. Bucky couldn’t stop staring at the cock in fascination, and he was pretty sure the rest of the room were also staring at Steve’s engorged appendage.

“Ha, reward,” Pierce muttered.

“I will not allow him to be used by that brute!” Natasha snapped.

Pierce sighed. “You have medicus, if huge cock splits slave, he can be fixed.”

“Is there not another way,” Tony mumbled.

“Punishment,” Peirce muttered.

“Yes,” Natasha said, “I would rather you punished Steve than use slave for his sexual gratification.”

“Very well.”

The slap was so fast the pain didn’t resister until Bucky dropped painfully to his knees. He cupped the stinging flesh to his face and stared in confusion at Pierce. The pain didn’t soften, but seemed to get worse until Bucky’s eyes watered.

“Do not raise hand to slave!” Natasha shouted, rushing forward.

Pierce smiled, then wagged his finger in Steve’s direction. He no longer stared into the corner of the villa but glared at Pierce. His whole body vibrated with rage, and he snarled unidentifiable words through the gag between his teeth. Gone were the soft blue eyes Bucky had seen earlier, and in their place were suffocating oceans. Still beautiful, but absolutely deadly if you were foolish enough to swim that deep.

“Punishment or reward. Or both. I look forward to hearing your decision.”

Pierce gave Steve an appreciative look then strode to the front door. His guards followed, and he left with a parting wave.

“I will not allow Bucky to be struck. I promised him he would not face harm in this villa.”

Tony shook his head. “All must make sacrifices to get to Rome, including Bucky.”

Natasha shook her head. “Is bigger villa and richer food worth this?”

“No,” Tony whispered. “But fertility medicus to give wife child...”

Natasha’s lips popped open. She glanced at Bucky, then to Tony. “A child.”

“Yes,” Tony mumbled, he turned his attention to Bucky and flicked his chin out. “You know of Domina's desire to be mother.”

Bucky nodded, and Tony nodded back. He would do anything for her, and Tony knew it.

“I will help in any way to get ludus stark to Rome,” Bucky mumbled.

“Then it is settled. Punishment or reward. If Steve does not fight and respect ludus Stark, Bucky will pay price.”

Steve rattled his chains and shook his head. He rolled his shoulders aggressively against his mouth and dislodged the material.

“No, you will not harm hair on his head.” Steve spat.

“As long as you fight.”

Steve stamped his foot to the floor and flashed his teeth. “No punishment, but reward. I will fight, I will show you respect, and in return, Bucky sleeps in my cell.”

“No!” Natasha yelled. “I will not allow it.”

Bucky gripped her hand and squeezed gentle. “I will be reward to make Domina happy.”

“That brute using your body does not make me happy, it makes my stomach swell with incurable sickness.”

“I will not force myself on Bucky.”

Natasha frowned fiercely. “You think I would believe the word of a savage. One who betrayed Rome.”

Tony rubbed at his chin, then sighed slowly. “You show me respect at next fight, then Bucky will sleep in the ludus with you.”

Natasha opened her mouth to argue, but Tony quickly raised his hand and she fell silent. Bucky pulsed his fingers around her hand and smiled in reassurance.

“Agreed,” Steve mumbled, then bowed his head at Tony.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am predicting this fic will be about tweleve chapters long. (I'm still writing it) <3


	8. Steve and Bucky don't get it on...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They literally don't get it on this chapter, but soon, soon....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind messages <3 Hope your enjoying the fic :)
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

 

Chapter 8

“I am sorry.”

Bucky shook his head for what felt like the fiftieth time. “Apology is not needed.”

“I swore you’d never have to lay with a man at Domina’s orders, and here I am. Offering you as prize for brute.”

“If this sets Domina on path to Rome, on path to bear child, it is small price.”

Natasha sighed through her nose and checked behind herself. As soon as she knew they weren’t being watched, she slipped her fingers through Bucky’s and held his hand. He widened his eyes at the contact and darted a look down. They walked down the stairs to the ludus in silence. Each time Natasha pulsed her fingers around his, he responded with the same gesture.

“Steve will return from the medicus shortly.” Natasha mumbled, “let us hope fight has tired him.”

Bucky shuddered. Steve had fought again in the amphitheatre, not a man, but a beast from the jungle. Its eyes had glowed orange, and its body had rippled with muscle. Bucky had squeezed his eyes shut when it launched itself at Steve, and he listened with his face scrunched and his hands clenched to the ooo’s and ahh’s of the crowd.

He knew Steve had won when he heard the boom of Tony’s hands clapping and opened his eyes. The beast was dead on the sand, and Steve stood over it, with his bloodied shield dripping on to its back. The smell of blood drifted in the air, thick and all consuming and Bucky breathed through his mouth instead of his nose to keep his stomach settled.

Natasha dropped Bucky’s hand, and struck the gate to the ludus. Clint rushed from the courtyard and bowed.

“Domina.”

“Bucky is to await Steve’s arrival.”

Clint unlocked the gate, and beckoned Bucky inside. He glanced back, and offered Natasha a reassuring smile, but she dropped her gaze and denied him.

“If Steve damages my slave beyond repair, he is to be dragged into the courtyard, and I will take my time savouring the destruction of my husband’s god.”

Clint swallowed audibly and rocked on his heels. “I will be sure to repeat words to Steve, Domina.”

Natasha turned, and her gown flicked out as she walked away. Her footsteps became fainter, and then she disappeared up the steps. Clint whispered, and flashed Bucky a look.

“Domina is fierce.”

“She is,” Bucky mumbled.

“As fierce as the beast Steve fought? I did not believe until I saw mark on chest.” Clint said with a smile.

Bucky frowned. “What mark?”

“Huge daggered claw mark, paws of beast must have been size of fucking head.”

He had seen no such mark on Steve’s chest after the fight. Though Steve had been covered head to toe in blood, Bucky had assumed it was the beast’s and not Steve’s.

“What was it like, the beast?”

“Something of nightmares. Strong, fast, and with a roar louder than any man’s war cry.”

Clint sighed and rubbed his chin. “Must have been a sight, I hope Dominus will let me accompany him to fights. I must first prove my worth.”

“Don’t let him catch you asleep.”

“One time, I sleep, you creep.”

Bucky lifted his eyebrow. “One time? Only one?”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “Come. I will take you to Steve’s cell.”

Bucky followed Clint through the ludus to the cell at the end. He flicked his chin out, and Bucky moved inside. There were five beds, but only one of them had a thin blanket. Bucky frowned, and turned to Clint.

Clint waved his hand at the other beds. “This cell was made to sleep five men, but Dominus only returned with one. Pick bed and wait for Steve.”

Bucky sat on the one closest. It was hard and creaked noisily with his weight. He turned to speak to Clint again, but he had gone. So much for warning Steve not to hurt him.

The bed he picked was nearest the courtyard, and a cool wind blew in his direction. His skin prickled uncomfortably, and he shuddered. The tunic he wore was thin and loose against his body. Natasha had removed the rope from his waist out of fear Steve would use it to strangle him or bind his hands. Bucky chose not to reply that Steve was perfectly capable of strangling his neck without rope and could as easily snap his wrists so he couldn’t use his hands. Bucky listened to the sound of the ludus. There were other gladiators sleeping, and Bucky could hear their nasally snores.

Bucky lay flat on the bed and stared at the stone ceiling. He stared until the stone blotched with dark colours, then he closed his eyes. When Steve had won he forced himself to stay calm, not wanting to upset Natasha, but now that he was alone, he allowed his nervousness to wrap around him. Steve had been nice to him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t suddenly snap and turn cruel.

Men turned savage when the thought and fantasy of sex invaded them. Bucky had to mentally prepare himself in case Steve turned into a brute. The thought of Steve’s eyes being engulfed in black at the sight of him in pain made his stomach clench painfully. Steve wouldn’t hurt him, he swore he wouldn’t, but Bucky had been made that promise before.

Bucky’s heart quickened at the sound of footsteps. He knew they were Steve’s by the slow-paced thud. He scrunched his eyes shut and breathed through his nose to calm himself. The looming presence of Steve suffocated Bucky, and he stopped breathing all together. Then Steve passed, and Bucky heard the grunt of him climbing into bed.

Bucky waited a few minutes before slowly turning to see Steve. His back was to Bucky, and he was completely still. Another few minutes passed and then Bucky heard soft exhales coming from Steve. Repetitive exhales of a man that had fallen to sleep.

Bucky rolled onto his back and frowned at the ceiling. Steve didn’t spare him a glance, didn’t even grunt a word his way. Steve didn’t want him.

Bucky left Steve’s cell in the morning with a frown still etched to his forehead. Natasha greeted him at the gate, and immediately grasped his face.

“Have you seen the medicus?”

Bucky shook his head. “No need Domina, I am unharmed.”

Natasha scanned him as if she didn’t believe his words, then released him. “Come, let’s get you in villa. Bath has been run for you.”

“There is no need.”

“Every need to get scent of brute off skin.”

Bucky shook his head. “Steve did not touch me.”

Natasha paused and widened her eyes. “He was too tired.”

“I believe so.”

A huge smile spread her lips, and her eyes grew shinny. “I am most relieved. Let us hope he is tired after very fight.”

Bucky forced his lips into a smile, but when Natasha turned, he immediately dropped the expression from his face. He didn’t understand why Steve hadn’t tried anything, and he didn’t understand why he was disappointed. He hurt, but it was ridiculous when there wasn’t a bruise or mark to his flesh.

Steve had hurt him inside, deepened the empty chasm behind his ribs, and Bucky had no idea how or why. He was sick but didn’t have a sickness he was familiar with.

The next fight Steve won with ease, and Bucky waited in his cell with his stomach churning with nerves. He didn’t want to be hurt by Steve’s hand, but he didn’t want to be ignored either. Steve strode into the cell, their gazes connected for half a second, and Bucky gasped. Then Steve carried on to his bed and collapsed down. The irritated tickle intensified in Bucky’s chest, and he frowned before curling into a ball on the bed.

The emptiness inside him grew each time Steve strolled past him. Bucky no longer squeezed his eyes shut but stared at Steve instead. Steve’s expression wasn’t friendly, it was almost disappointed, and Bucky’s brain ached trying to work out why. Steve was irritated Bucky was in his cell, annoyed even though he had agreed with the Dominus.

 Bucky remembered the way Steve had cupped his face and rubbed his thumb to his lip. He remembered Steve’s concerned eyes, and his anger at those that had hurt him. He remembered the day in the villa, when he pressed his mouth to Steve’s stomach, and Steve had reacted as if the touch was desired. It meant something, it had to mean something, but Steve denied him, and he felt to stupid asking Steve why.

After Steve’s sixth victory, Bucky was determined to get a reaction from him. He didn’t wait on the bed nearest to the courtyard but climbed into Steve’s instead. The blanket held the scent of Steve, and Bucky greedily breathed it into his lungs. The boom of footsteps started along the corridor, and Bucky eagerly waited in Steve’s bed. Being wrapped up in Steve’s blanket, with Steve’s scent on his skin was bound to arouse the gladiator, make him act, Bucky was sure of it.

Steve stepped inside and froze. He stared and Bucky, and Bucky stared back, then he sighed, and collapsed on the creaky bed nearest the courtyard.

Bucky’s mouth popped open in shock, and he throttled the blanket, then threw it on the ground. He put his feet on the floor and staggered forward.

“Am I really so repulsive?”

“Sleep, Bucky.”

Steve’s tone was bored, and it irritated Bucky even more. He stamped on the blanket, and glared fire at Steve’s back.

 “I will not sleep!”

Steve turned over on the bed and glared. “You will lower your tone.”

“No, I will shout if it gets reaction.”

Steve’s nostrils flared, and he swung his legs off the bed to stand. Bucky could see the faint etching of a claw mark on his chest form the beast from weeks before, and there was a fresh bruise to Steve’s eye. He looked angry and puffed his chest out. Steve didn’t blink, and Bucky resisted the urge to glance away. He challenged Steve with his own stare, and his whole body vibrated with rage.

“I want to know why you do not want me.”

Steve frowned. He scanned Bucky as if he had sprouted another head but didn’t answer.

Bucky hissed, and took a step closer to Steve. “Your cock hardened at my mere breath weeks ago, and now you sneer at me in your cell, as if I am vermin.”

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head, but still no words left his lips, and Bucky gritted his teeth.

“Are you one that is ashamed by own reaction? Did you not expect my mouth to excite you as I am not woman? Many men started that way, view me with disgust and repulsion only to seek me out. They punish me for own desires.”

“Do not compare me to those that have hurt you,” Steve growled, stepping forward.

Bucky didn’t retreat, and he didn’t break eye contact. “Why turn from me now?”

“What is it you want with me? You want me to force your cheeks apart, and split you open? You want me to hit and beat you? Smash your head into wall until you pass out? What is it you want?”

Bucky blinked back the sting in his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Steve’s gaze softened and he relaxed his stance. “You don’t know…The first time you laid in this cell, you shook with fear.”

Bucky dropped his gaze. “Caught by old memories.”

“You thought I would harm you like those men did.”

“And you proved you wouldn’t. But I hurt in a different way now, a way they couldn’t hurt me.”

“What way?”

Bucky pressed his palm to his heart. “This is hurting, it hurts you do not want me. I want your soft words, and your gentle hands. I don’t want to hurt anymore. Weeks ago you said nice things and stroked my flesh, now you are irritated by my presence when we have time alone.”

“It is not your presence that irritates me.”

“Then what?”

Steve pinched the top of his nose and exhaled slowly. “You are not here for want of your own. You are here because I made deal with Stark. I do not want you as reward.”

Bucky stumbled back, until his legs hit the bed behind, and he sat down. “You do not want me as reward. Is there another that you do?”

The thought made Bucky want to plunge a knife into his chest and remove his beating heart. He didn’t think it was possible to feel worse, but his gut spasmed and he feared he was about to vomit.

Steve tipped his head back and growled. “You do not listen to words.”

“I listen, and your words say you do not want me.”

“I do not want you as reward. I do not want you when Stark decides. I will not use you like he thinks I do, but I do want you Bucky.”

Bucky dropped his head into his hands and stared at his knees. “Why act like you don’t, why sigh in disappointment when I wait in cell.”

Steve sighed harshly and moved back to the bed by the courtyard. “Your Domina sends you to cell and returns in morning for you. This is not of your control, but theirs, and I will not touch you when it is not solely your decision to be touched.”

“Even if it’s what I want.”

Steve sighed slowly, then climbed into the bed. “Even if it's what we both want.”

Bucky studied him for a few minutes before tugging Steve’s blanket off the floor and wrapping it around himself. He laid down and stared at the ceiling while Steve’s words spun around his head.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Steve and Bucky give in to desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have fun in Steve's cell...  
> A short, but hopefully satisfying chapter ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! <3
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

 

Chapter 9

It was Clint’s turn to guard that night. Bucky slipped on his tunic and tiptoed across the villa. He crouched down and angled his head to see around the wall. Clint was sat on the floor, with his legs out in front of him and his head lolling forward. Bucky listened to the wheeze of air going in and out his nose and smiled. He edged forward, checking behind himself to make sure Tony and Natasha weren’t stirring in their slumber.

The key to the ludus was on a piece of chord around Clint’s neck. Bucky kneeled in front of him, and carefully pinched the chord before lifting it as gently as he could. Clint rolled his head and smacked his lips together. Bucky widened his eyes and froze praying Clint would settle back down. Clint’s brow scrunched, and then suddenly relaxed before his head bowed forward once again. Bucky eased the key over his head, then rushed down the corridor towards the stairs. He leaned up against the wall and panted for breath. His heart felt like it was attempting to escape his chest, and there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the air.

He clutched the key in his hand and smiled before rushing down the steps to the ludus. A few lamps were lit and flickered sinisterly. Bucky moved up to the bars and peered into the darkness. He thought about calling Steve, but instead he slotted the key in the lock as careful as he could. He did his best to muffle the clunk with his tunic and shot a glance up the steps to be sure Clint wasn’t watching.

Bucky slipped through, then closed the gate softly behind him. He crept past the cells that housed the other gladiators to Steve’s at the end.

Steve didn’t stir as Bucky tiptoed inside. He was laying on his back with his blanket around his waist. The flickering lamps in his cell cast shadows on his torso, highlighting his muscles and faint scars. He was still, and, unlike the other gladiators puffing and snorting away, was near silent. Bucky stood and stared for a few seconds just to be sure his chest was moving, then he edged forward and dropped to his knees.

“Steve,” he whispered then pushed his side.

There was no reaction, and Bucky shuffled along until his lips were resting against the shell of Steve’s ear and whispered his name. Steve’s arm shot out, and his hand gripped Bucky’s neck hard. Bucky grabbed onto Steve’s wrist, and dug his nails in for Steve to release him. The sleepiness cleared from Steve’s eyes, and he withdrew his hand fast. Bucky dropped to the floor and spluttered at the stone. He gulped for breath and rubbed at his raw throat.

Steve kneeled and brushed his hand aside, then massaged Bucky’s neck. “You must not sneak when I sleep.”

Bucky nodded. He certainly wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Steve looked around the cell, then back to Bucky.

“What are you doing here?”

“I am here not because of Domina, but because I want to be.”

Steve ran his fingers along Bucky’s neck, and found the chord attached to the key. “You stole this?”

Bucky scrunched his face in annoyance. “I did not steal, only borrowed.”

Steve widened his eyes. “If you are caught, you are sure to be punished.”

“Let's us hope I do not get caught.”

Steve shook his head and encouraged Bucky to his feet. “You must go now, back to villa.”

Bucky pulled free of Steve’s grip and shook his head. “I do not wish to go.”

“Bucky…”

“I wish to finish what was started weeks ago. When I kneeled in front of you and pushed my mouth to your stomach.”

“They made you do that,” Steve growled.

“They are not making me now,” Bucky whispered. “I wish to kiss you, and pleasure you. You told me you wanted me too.”

Steve’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he flashed a look over his shoulder. “This is dangerous.”

“Only because stupid gladiator wastes time.”

Steve snorted, and his lips lifted into a smile. “Stupid gladiator? You are foolish slave taking risks.”

Bucky saw Steve’s smile as an invitation and walked forward. Steve immediately stiffened, and Bucky stopped and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“But if you have had change of heart, I will return to villa, and not trouble you again.”

There was a long sigh from Steve, and then he reached and cupped Bucky’s cheek. He lifted his face until Bucky’s gaze locked with his.

“I worry if I have you, I will not be able to let you go.”

“Then do not let me go.”

Steve snorted, and his lips twitched with a smile. “That will get us in trouble.”

“I do not care.”

Bucky gripped Steve’s wrist, and stepped closer. His eyes settled on Steve’s mouth, and he knew Steve was looking at his. Steve didn’t move an inch, and Bucky closed the gap between them himself.

Bucky took a slower approach, licking the sensitive flesh and groaning in satisfaction at the muskiness. Bucky sucked to draw more of Steve’s flavour into his mouth and rolled his tongue on the intoxicating cocktail exciting all his taste-buds. Steve tasted good, more than good, musky and masculine. Bucky wouldn’t have minded drowning in him. He let Steve’s cock fill his mouth, until his nose was nestled in the hair at the base. Steve didn’t just taste good but smelled it too. He stayed as he was, enjoying smelling Steve, enjoying the warmth throbbing between his lips. When hands gripped at his hair, he drew back, not letting Steve go completely but sealing the head of Steve’s cock in his mouth to suck at. He rubbed Steve’s balls with his one hand, and massaged Steve’s ass with the other.

When Steve tightened his grip in Bucky’s hair, he sucked harder and when his name was chanted like a mantra to the gods Bucky adjusted his technique and slide his lips up and down until the inevitable happened.

Bucky swallowed everything he was given, was desperate to do so with Steve panting and gasping above him. Steve’s thighs shook, and his body shivered. He had weakened a god with his mouth while no one had managed to do so in the arena. Steve had always stood victorious, but in his cell he quivered, and panted as if Bucky had exhausted every ounce of energy he possessed.

Bucky looked up, and smiled wider at Steve’s red face and open mouth. Steve wagged his finger at Bucky.

“You laugh at me? How can I not come from such a pretty mouth?”

Bucky pressed his lips together, but his eyes crinkled with his smile anyway. He didn’t know why he was even laughing but he knew it wasn’t because of Steve. He felt happy, felt satisfied at the way Steve looked at him, his body still heaving and his eyes shiny and wide. It made him feel good, good enough to laugh for no apparent reason. Steve had driven him mad.

Steve narrowed his eyes, then reached down and pinched Bucky’s cheek.

“Stand so I can kiss you.”

Bucky couldn’t get to his feet quick enough. He pressed his mouth to Steve’s desperately. Steve grinned, delving forward to suck gently at Bucky’s thinner top lip. Bucky’s frame rattled at the attention, his gasps and moans broke with hitched breaths and quivering flesh. Steve’s arms ensnared him, kept him trapped but not threateningly so. Bucky’s heart soared, his stomach flipped, and his erection turned hard as a stone. He couldn’t resist the urge to roll his hips forward, to brush against Steve’s muscular thigh. Nails scratched Bucky’s scalp, tangling in his hair as they continued to trade kisses back and forth. Suddenly, they were moving. Steve pulled Bucky towards his bed and perched on the edge. He patted his thighs, and Bucky went to straddle him, but Steve shook his head, and grabbed his hips. He arranged Bucky on his lap with his feet flat on the floor, and his back to Steve’s chest. Bucky shot a questioning look over his shoulder.

“I can not kiss you like this.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “No, but I can kiss you.”

He pressed his lips to the side of Bucky’s neck, and he leaned into the caress.

“And I can touch you here…”

Steve’s hand circled his erection, and Bucky jolted at the pleasure dancing up his cock. He wanted to be touched, needed to be and Steve seemed to understand that desperation. He moved his hand, forming a circle with his finger and thumb. Bucky groaned at the gentleness and newness: he didn’t touch himself like that, didn’t take his time and grow more and more excited by the repetitive movement. He rubbed the side of his face against Steve’s, and thrusted in frustration, but Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky’s chest to keep him still. He stopped stroking his cock, and Bucky whined.

“Stay still, so many have treated you cruelly, I want to treat you well. I want to make you feel good.”

Steve kept the same barely stroking tempo on Bucky’s cock but increased the firmness and added a thumb rub each time he got to the tip.

“I can kiss you,” Steve said to Bucky’s neck, “And I can stroke your cock, and…I can touch you here.”

Steve reached down between Bucky’s legs, and stroked his finger over his tight hole. He rubbed, not putting pressure to push inside, but just catching the rim with his nail and making Bucky shiver. His eyes slid shut, and he didn’t have the willpower to reopen them. He could only focus on all the places Steve made his skin sing. Steve kissed at his neck, nudged with his nose, until Bucky tilted his head to give him more access. Kisses by his ear made him shiver and pant. The hand on his cock worked at a slow pace, but he could feel how wet he was getting, all his excitement being rung out of him by Steve’s rubbing thumb. The finger between his legs made him tingle, and each wave raced through his body down to the head of his cock when Steve swept his thumb over it.

“You like?”

Bucky licked his lips, then nodded.

“Good…”

Steve stopped touching with his finger, and Bucky snapped his eyes open. He turned, and saw Steve sucking on his fingers, getting them wet before reaching back between his legs.

“Close your eyes, Buck. Just enjoy.”

Steve slipped a finger inside him and curled.

He could feel Steve on him, in him and around him, and he panted for more, flexed his hips weakly to take Steve’s finger deeper. The sensations were too much, and he felt his orgasm building, knew it was unstoppable. His toes curled on the floor, and he pushed himself back into Steve’s chest and stiffened. His orgasm sizzled into an inferno, he gulped for air and released a drawn-out moan. He heard the slap of his come hitting the floor, three distinctive spurts that splashed his feet, then he relaxed into Steve’s body with a wrecked sigh.

Steve rested his chin on Bucky’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his middle.

“We play dangerous game,” Steve whispered.

Bucky leaned back and brushed his nose against the side of Steve’s face. “We can win dangerous game.”

Steve exhaled slowly, then reached for the key dangling at Bucky’s neck. “If only this opened villa door too…”

Bucky frowned and shook his head. “We could not run.”

“I would never let anyone hurt you, I would keep you safe.”

Bucky twisted around to see Steve. “Don’t speak madness. We would be caught and crucified.”

Steve sighed slowly through his nose. “I wish we could be free men.”

Bucky clutched Steve’s bicep and squeezed. “We may not be free, but our hearts are. They are not controlled by the Domina or Dominus, not controlled through fights, or fear. They are free to beat in the ways we want them to.”

Steve leaned forward and pushed his forehead to Bucky’s. “Mine only beats for you, and right now it stutters with thoughts of you being found with this.”

He tugged the key, and Bucky looked down at it. “Yes, I must go. Next time you win fight, do not deny what you or I want, or I will have to risk punishment and steal key again.”

“I will not deny this the next time you are in my cell,” Steve whispered.

Bucky smiled brightly, threaded his fingers into Steve’s hair, and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Emperor Titus...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emperor Titus comes to see Steve fight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for kudos, and comments, they keep me encouraged to write more. <3
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

 

Chapter 10

Steve raised his bloodied shield into the air and the amphitheatre roared. His chest was plastered in drying blood, his knees were dirty, and there was a slice to his shoulder. He turned to Bucky and shot him a small smile. But what Steve probably hoped was a secret smile, was not missed my Pierce.

“Your gladiator is eager for slave. You chose reward, not punishment?”

Natasha stiffened, and dropped her gaze to her feet.

Tony nodded. “He fights for reward of slave in cell.”

Bucky felt Pierce’s eyes on him but didn’t dare lift his to connect their gazes. “And he still stands, your medicus must be skilled.”

Tony didn’t answer, just flapped his hand out to Steve still prancing around the arena. “What of my god's chances?”

Pierce smacked his lips together and hummed. “Emperor Titus has ordered one hundred days of games in the Flavian Amphitheatre. For the final day, he wants a fight the very gods will watch in awe. Two gladiators, one to die on the hot sand, the other to pass through the gates to freedom.”

“He will let the victor go?” Natasha asked.

Pierce smiled. “Motivation for a most glorious fight. Titus has chosen one gladiator for fight, but he is yet to choose other.”

Tony leaned forward eagerly in his seat. “You can sway him with words to pick Steve.”

“I can sway him with words to come see Steve fight. Steve will have to impress.”

“Who is other gladiator?” Natasha asked.

Pierce chuckled, and Bucky looked towards him out the corner of his eye. His lips spread in a slow smile, and his teeth glinted in the sunlight. “The gladiator known as Thor.”

Bucky swallowed to relieve the tightness in his throat, but it didn’t help. He hadn’t spoken the name, but he felt it wedge in his throat. Thor was unbeatable, he smashed his opponent’s skulls to pieces, and trampled their shards of bones.

“Thor?” Natasha gasped.

“The wielder of the hammer?” Tony asked.

Pierce huffed. “Yes, only gladiator called Thor, only one that uses hammer. Think of it, shield against hammer, one must die horrific death on sand while other walks free of shackles.”

“Steve will lose,” Natasha whispered.

Pierce waved his hand. “No matter, if he gives spectacular fight, you will be rewarded enough coin to fill small villa and buy hundred gladiators.”

“And what if he wins?” Tony asked.

Pierce snorted. “Nothing but fantasy.”

“But if?”

“Coins from Titus himself until you die, villa in heart of Rome, wine, food. You will live luxury life, second only to Titus himself.”

“Would Titus let a disgraced centurium walk free?” Natasha mumbled.

Pierce shrugged. “I do not pretend to know Titus’s mind, but I believe so. Your god will fight for freedom, and your trusted slave can rest his abused hole.”

Natasha hissed angrily and stood. “Come, Bucky, let us return to villa.”

 

Bucky paced Steve’s cell. He had yet to return from the medicus, but it wasn’t worry for his health that made Bucky restless. Freedom, it was what most gladiators longed for, and Steve had the opportunity to loosen his shackles and step out of the ludus. No longer a disgraced soldier, or a god-like gladiator, but a man.

Thor stood between Steve and freedom. Bucky had seen him fight once, had been dragged along to one of his fights by his previous master.

Thor was bigger than Steve, he swung his hammer with such force it obliterated shields, snapped swords like twigs, and he didn’t stop there. His opponents no longer looked like men, but slime left on the sand. He roared after his victory, and everyone’s clapping hands froze in terror. Bucky couldn’t let that happen to Steve, he had to be sure Steve didn’t face Thor.

Bucky shuddered, and circled Steve’s cell faster.

“That agitated for my hands to be on you?”

Bucky stilled at Steve’s mumbled voice, a smile stretched his lips, and he strode over to where Bucky had stopped. Bucky couldn’t smile back, he couldn’t look into Steve’s bright eyes, instead he glared at the wound on Steve’s shoulder.

“Nothing but a scratch,” Steve said softly.

Bucky took a step closer, then dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder. Steve hissed, then snorted and ran his fingers into Bucky’s hair.

“What troubles you?”

Bucky shook his head, and Steve stopped combing his fingers through his hair. “Has someone hurt you? Has Brock—

“No. I—I need you to do something for me.”

Steve leaned Bucky back, and pushed their foreheads together. “Anything.”

“I need you to fight badly.”

Steve frowned, and a crease appeared at the top of his nose. “You want me to fall?”

“No! I want only for you to win, but next fight, do not be impressive be…dull.”

Steve took a step back. “Dull? What has been said that needs me to be dull.”

“I do not wish to explain. But for me, Steve, be unimpressive in your victory, make it appear as luck and not skill.”

Steve pressed the back of his hand to Bucky’s head and frowned. Then he cupped his cheeks and pulled the skin down with his thumbs to check his eyes. “You do not appear to be sick.”

“I am not physically sick but wracked with worries.”

“And if I agree to be most unimpressive will worries vanish?”

Bucky nodded eagerly against Steve’s hands. “Yes.”

“Then it is decided.”

Bucky smiled, and Steve smiled back. Then Bucky reached for his loin cloth and tugged him closer. Bucky massaged Steve’s crotch, already able to feel the warmth seeping through.

Steve’s eyes snapped to the hand rubbing at him through the fabric. He breathed deep through his nose and exhaled calmly. He tolerated the stroking of his concealed cock, but Bucky could tell he was fast losing control by the redness blotching Steve’s cheeks and the rise and fall of his chest. He may have been a gladiator in the arena, skilled with shield and sword, but in his cell, he weakened under Bucky’s touches. Bucky grinned smugly and fluttered his eyelashes.

Steve snorted and cupped his face. He pressed his thumb to Bucky’s lip and distorted the rubbery flesh. “That smile.”

Bucky nipped his thumb, then smirked. “What smile? I can not see what own smile looks like.”

“A smile of confidence, a smile of a victor.”

Bucky hummed, then lowered himself to the ground. He dipped his head forward, rubbing his forehead into Steve’s heated lap, and he grunted. It was the same loincloth he wore when he was fighting, and it smelled of sweat, and blood and sand. It didn’t roll Bucky’s stomach; Steve’s scent was stronger and drowned all other scents out.

Bucky moved his attention to Steve’s thighs. His licks were slow, deliberately slow and lingering to chip away Steve’s strength, to make the giant of a man jitter. Bucky licked more desperately, groaning softly as he did. He rocked on his knees and marked Steve’s thighs with his teeth. Not enough to bleed, but enough to be felt, enough to leave a red patch that he soothed with his tongue.

Steve groaned, and thrusted forward with his hips. Bucky took pity on him and unwrapped the loincloth. It dropped to the floor and Steve’s engorged cock sprung free, red and sticky and Bucky teased with the tip of his tongue. Steve moaned, cantering his hips. His legs jittered with no control and Bucky gripped the back of his knees to hold him steady. Bucky played Steve’s body till he no longer sounded like the great gladiator of the arena. His moans hitched, and broke, and his body shuddered wildly. Bucky glanced up from his position, pride fizzling in his veins at the state of Steve. No longer a god, but a man reduced to a panting mess by his mouth. He smirked before opening his mouth wide and taking Steve’s straining erection all the way to the back of his throat. Bucky slid his tongue on the underside of Steve’s cock, bobbing forward to drive the hot flesh deeper in his mouth before pulling back with a long-drawn suck and a hum of appreciation.

Three deep bobs, and Steve’s hands fisted in Bucky’s hair. It pinched, but Bucky liked the feeling and sucked harder. Steve gasped through his release, and Bucky held his knees steady as he accepted the flow of come. He pulled back, shutting his eyes briefly as he savoured Steve’s taste and texture in his mouth.

“You are weak to pleasure,” Bucky mumbled.

“Weak only to you and that mouth.”

Bucky smiled and got to his feet. As soon as he was standing, Steve grabbed his tunic and tugged it off. It still covered Bucky’s eyes when Steve leaned in and started kissing him. Their mouths clashed together with a hungered desperation, tongues swirling, teeth scraping on lips and noses whistling with the lack of air. Light-headed, Bucky felt dizzy being caressed and kissed. Steve pulled him towards the bed, and Bucky was only too willing.

Steve laid down, and tugged Bucky on top of him. He tried to prop himself up with his hands, but Steve clutched him to his chest. Bucky’s erection was trapped between their bodies, smearing lines on Steve’s hard abs.

Steve reached for something underneath his blanket. Bucky lifted his head off Steve’s chest, then frowned at the small glass bottle and raised a questioning eyebrow at Steve.

“Olive oil,” He said. “Borrowed from Medicus.”

Bucky continued to frown, and Steve smirked.

He poured the bottle onto his fingers, soaking them. “Wait and see.”

Bucky dropped his hand back to Steve’s chest, and rolled his hips. He ached with need, but Steve seemed more concerned about olive oil.

Steve grabbed Bucky and hauled him higher, until Bucky’s head was wedged by Steve’s neck, then he reached down with his oil covered fingers. Bucky jolted when Steve touched him. He pushed, but it didn’t hurt, even when he slipped a finger fully inside it didn’t burn. Bucky moaned loudly in Steve’s neck as fingers slipped in and out of his body. Steve curled them, and Bucky shivered and rocked his hips. They felt good inside him, warm and soft, and Bucky gave into them and sank into Steve’s chest. Steve curled and rubbed, and Bucky trembled. He felt something building inside him and gasped. Steve pulled his fingers out, and started touching him again on the outside before sinking them back in. He found the place that made Bucky shake, and rubbed until he was close to crying out, then removed his fingers altogether. Bucky panted into Steve’s neck, not understanding the odd feeling, but knowing he wanted it, wanted to see where it would lead.

“Seems I am not the only one weak to pleasure.”

His heart rate increased, until Bucky was sure he could feel his blood rushing through every vein, hot and fizzling. He felt tight, wound up like a string and he just wanted Steve to release him. Steve’s fingers moved firmly inside him. He didn’t remove them, or slow them, he kept going until Bucky panted wetly into the side of his neck.

“Steve,” He gasped.

The coil inside him released, and his whole body numbed apart from his groin. He felt the tingling in the base of his spine, his balls and his cock. It overwhelmed him, and he felt the come coating Steve’s body, but it didn’t leave him in spurts, it drooled out of him. He couldn’t move, and the sensation didn’t lessen. He lay with his mouth open and dribbled on Steve unable to help it. It was the most intense orgasm he had experienced, and Steve hadn’t even touched his cock. It was from Steve’s slippery fingers rubbing inside him. He’d had men’s cocks inside him, but never had they rubbed against that place, never had they made his spine dance with euphoric sparks.

Steve hummed, then ran his hands up Bucky’s back. Bucky lay dazed, and happy on Steve’s chest.

“Can you do that with your cock?” he murmured.

Steve stilled his hands, then snorted. “It might feel different.”

Bucky tried to lift himself off Steve, but his neck and arms felt weak. He gave up and slumped back down. “I want you to try with your cock.”

“There is nothing I want more, but I will not hurt you.”

“Does that mean never?”

“It means we must prepare, must stretch you for you to enjoy.”

Bucky huffed. “But I want your cock now.”

“You are dazed and disorientated, and happy in my arms. I will not risk it now.”

“Next time?”

“Next time,” Steve agreed, “but now I must wipe come off chest.”

Bucky grimaced when Steve rolled him off. He had never seen so much come, and Steve hastily wiped it up with his blanket. He pulled Bucky back towards him, and they wedged themselves together.

“Still feel good?” Steve asked.

“Still good.”

 

The whole amphitheatre applauded when Emperor Titus appeared. He waved to the crowd, and they responded with a cheer of unison.

“They adore you, Emperor,” Tony said, bowing forward.

“And so they should.”

His tunic was white and ruffled at the top. It was clipped at his shoulder with a gold emblem. His face was wrinkled, and tight curls of white hair covered the top of his head. Bucky did not look at him but bowed in his direction.

“Let us watch your god, Stark.”

Tony bowed. “Of course.”

The Emperor seated himself, and Pierce sat down beside him. Tony and Natasha sat a few chairs away, with the Emperor’s guards standing between them.

“Let us hope our god is magnificent.” Tony mumbled.

Natasha breathed heavily through her nose, then turned away.

Steve didn’t have one opponent, but three. One with a trident, one with a sword, and one with a spear. Steve glared at each of them in turn, then thumped his shield to the sand. They jolted back a step at the threat.

The Emperor barked a laugh. “They tremble before fight has begun.”

“They await your command,” Pierce said.

Titus sighed then waved his hand. “Begin.”

Bucky didn’t squeeze his eyes shut like all the times before. He flicked his chin out at Steve, praying he would remember what they agreed. He was to win, but to seem a fool, not a warrior. Steve frowned at Bucky, then nodded.

Bucky breathed out a sigh of relief, then noticed Natasha was glaring at him. He offered her a small smile, but she didn’t return it. She frowned, then turned her gaze to Steve.

Steve played the clumsy fighter perfectly. He tripped over his feet, seemingly slicing the swordsman by complete accident. Tony curled his fingers into his chair, and Natasha glared as Steve bumbled around, barely dodging blows.

The crowd murmured, then their murmurs became laughs.

“What is this?” Titus hissed, “He is no gladiator, but an idiot in a gladiator’s skin. This spectacle insults me.”

Tony turned to Titus and leaned around his guards. He pressed his hands together in prayer. “I swear he is most skilled.”

“Silence!” Titus yelled, and Tony’s mouth snapped shut.

Steve clattered to his knees, and the auditorium erupted with laughter.

Pierce stood and cleared his throat. “Apologies.”

He strolled past the guards and stopped in front of Tony. “I need to borrow slave.”

“By all means borrow him.”

Natasha opened her mouth to protest, but Tony shut her down with a furious glare. Pierce gripped Bucky’s forearm, and tugged him along. He was dragged out of sight of his Dominus, then Pierce grabbed the back of his head and smashed him into the wall. Blood gushed from Bucky’s nose, and he gasped, then choked. His face throbbed fiercely, and he tried to touch his nose, but Pierce slapped his hand away.

“Reward will only do so much,” Pierce hissed.

He reached down and pulled out the knife strapped to his ankle. He waved the blade in front of Bucky’s face, and his eyes snapped to it.

“Which part of you does he like most? Your tongue? Your lips, your abused hole?”

Bucky swallowed, and scrunched his face at the taste of blood. His eyes stung with tears, and his lip wobbled.

Pierce huffed, then pulled Bucky off the wall. He wrapped one arm around Bucky’s chest, and held the knife to Bucky’s throat. Pierce walked them forward, they were hidden from the Emperor and his Domina and Dominus by a pillar, but those nearest gasped.

“Say word, and I will cut your throat too,” Pierce hissed at them.

They parted for Pierce to get to the front, and Bucky stared out at the sand. Steve had defeated one of his opponents, but two still stood.

“Let him glance this way,” Pierce growled.

Bucky willed Steve not to look at him, but he turned, and their eyes met. Steve’s mouth dropped open in horror and he widened his eyes. Steve darted a look at Bucky, then in the direction the Emperor was sitting.

“Yes, you must impress Titus, or I slit throat,” Pierce muttered.

Steve glanced down and seemed to piece everything together. He turned from Bucky and abandoned his sword in favour of his shield. His muscles rippled when he threw it, and it knocked the gladiator nearest off his feet. He sailed through the air and landed with a thump against the side of the arena. The trident fighter remained, and he launched his weapon through the air. Steve turned his body and grabbed the weapon as it flew before twirling it and stabbing it in the ground. He backed away, and his opponent rushed forward. He tried to pull his trident out of the ground but couldn’t.

Steve crossed his arms and watched him with no emotion. His opponent abandoned his weapon and ran at Steve. Steve moved lightning fast, and grabbed him by the face, before forcing his head to the ground. He pulled back with his other arm, then punched his opponent in the face until he lay still on the sand.

The amphitheatre erupted with cheers, claps and stamps of feet.

“Good,” Pierce mumbled. He released Bucky and slipped the knife by his ankle. “Come, slave.”

Bucky followed him back through the crowd and stood beside Natasha. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes watered at the sight of his bloodied face.

“The fuck?”

Pierce patted Bucky on the shoulder, then passed by and strolled up to the Emperor.

“He fucking struck slave” Natasha gasped.

She stood and used the skirt of gown to wipe Bucky’s face.

“Stop,” Tony growled. “Emperor cannot see you fuss over slave.”

Pierce cleared his voice, and they all froze then turned towards him.

“Emperor Titus,” Pierce said and bowed.

Titus grinned, and pressed his hand to his chest. “Most impressive show. You make gladiator act like bumbling idiot then unveil true potential. He is magnificent and will be worthy opponent for Thor.”

Titus frowned, then flicked his chin out at Bucky. “What happened to slave?”

Pierce chuckled. “Most unfortunate fall, too distracted watching fight to watch steps.”

Titus laughed. “Ah yes, can see Steve’s appeal. I wish to see him up close.”

Tony’s eyes shot open and he nodded. “Of course.”

“Tonight. I wish to celebrate finding worthy opponent at your villa, Stark. Invite friends, get wine, and finest food.”

“Anything you wish.” Tony nodded eagerly, and Titus clapped.

“Most excellent. One more thing, Stark: no more pretence, I expect to be impressed, not insulted. Impress me, and be a most attentive host, otherwise I’ll be sure to see you, and everyone in your villa, fall - maybe in front of a beast in my games.”

He smiled, then strode passed with his guards accompanying him.


	11. Steve and Bucky....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky are ordered to have sex by the Emperor. 
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time coming but chapter 11 is finally here <3  
> Thanks for sticking around :)
> 
>  
> 
> Warning for: non-con, voyeurism, slaves ordered to have sex for entertainment.

  

Chapter 11

“The fuck?” Steve growled.

He gripped Bucky’s face and tilted him left to right. Bucky ached, and he couldn’t breathe through his swollen nose. He dropped his hand that was holding the rag to his face, and let Steve study him. It didn’t calm him like he hoped; Steve vibrated with rage and gritted his teeth.

Natasha slapped his arm, and Steve retreated with a huff. Bucky lowered his gaze and pressed the rag back to his dribbling nose.

“You swore, Stark, he was not to be touched.”

Tony held his hands up, then turned them to show Steve his knuckles. “It was not I that touched him.”

Steve took a menacing step towards Tony, and the guards held up their swords in warning.

“Turn your anger on Pierce,” Natasha snapped, “he is the one that struck Bucky.”

Steve stilled, and flexed his hands at his sides. “Pierce…”

“Do not put thoughts in his head!” Tony shouted, “he must be on best behaviour for Emperor.”

“I will turn slaying of Pierce into a show," Steve mumbled darkly. “Please Emperor that way.”

Natasha snorted, and bobbed her head. “Yes, I agree.”

“No,” Tony growled, pinching his nose. “Foolish wife, do not encourage our god to seek vengeance, did you not hear Emperor's threat. If we do not put on a fine display, we are all destined to be torn limb from limb in his games.”

Natasha paled and retreated a step.

Tony stepped forward and pleaded with Steve. “I do not wish to chain you later, but you must show respect. Our lives, any misdeeds will cost us all our lives.”

Steve looked to each of them, then his gaze settled on Bucky. Bucky flashed a look at him, then quickly averted his eyes. Steve didn’t have the fond expression Bucky craved, he looked downright murderous.

“Fine Dominus. I will behave.” Steve growled, “but I wish to speak to Bucky now, alone.”

 “Absolutely not.” Natasha snapped, tugging Bucky’s arm.

“You will let me speak to him.” Steve demanded, turning back to Tony. “I won fight and am owed reward.”

“There is no time for you to indulge in sex.”

“I only wish to speak.”

Tony sighed tiredly, then nodded. “I will allow you swift words with Bucky, but you must be on best behaviour when the Emperor arrives.”

“Deal.” Steve hissed through his teeth.

“Come, Natasha.” Tony said, flicking his chin out at the gate. “Let us leave them.”

“And let him inflict more pain on Bucky, I think not.”

“The only ones who have caused him harm have been the friends you sit by and sip wine with. I have not hurt hair on his head, but you allow others to harm him.”

Natasha gawped at Steve’s words, and her bottom lip trembled. Tony curled his arm around hers and walked her towards the exit.

“Five minutes, Bucky.” Tony mumbled.

Steve watched them go, and only lessened his aggressive stance once they had faded from view. He closed the distance between him and Bucky and slipped the rag from Bucky’s hand. His eyes were hard, and his hands shook. He looked like he was about to cup Bucky’s face, then quickly took back his hand. Rage bubbled over in him, and he turned around and punched the wall.

Bucky stepped forward and gripped his arm. “Are you mad?”

“Not mad, furious, Bucky, furious Pierce touched you and I could do nothing.”

“It is my fault he struck me, he wanted reaction, and he got it.”

“You asked me to fight like a fool, and you are punished. What was the meaning Bucky? Why do that?”

Bucky swallowed uncomfortably and glanced away from the anger in Steve’s eyes. “I heard Emperor sought gladiators for his games. He wanted two for the final day. One will fall, the other will walk to freedom.”

Steve hummed, then flicked his chin out for Bucky to continue.

“One gladiator has already been chosen. The mighty Thor. Pierce said the Emperor might consider you for final fight. I wanted to make sure it was not so.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and took a step back. “You didn’t want me to face Thor. You thought I would lose.”

“He is a mightier gladiator, with far more experience.”

Steve snorted furiously and took another step back. Bucky moved to follow, but Steve held his hand up for him to stop.

“You doubt me.”

Bucky blinked back the sting in his eyes. “I do not wish to see you fall. Steve, I would rather swallow burning poison every day for the rest of my life than see you fall.”

Steve paced and shook his head. He kept his eyes narrowed, and muttered words Bucky couldn’t hear.

“I would not fall,” Steve hissed. “You deny me fight, not out of care, or compassion, but to keep me from freedom.”

Bucky’s heart sped up and beat frantically behind his ribs. He shook his head adamantly, but Steve didn’t look at him.

“I wish only to keep you safe.”

“Keep me trapped in this ludus. You did not fear my demise, but my freedom. You did not want me to leave you behind.”

Bucky scrunched his face tight and clutched his stomach. Steve’s accusations rung in his ears and felt like a physical blow to his stomach. “Not true, I wish nothing more than your freedom.”

Steve laughed savagely and turned away. “Yet you tried to deny me chance—

“Out of worry.”

“Go back to the villa,” Steve mumbled.

Bucky stepped forward, and reached for Steve, but he moved away.

“I do not wish to for your words to mess with head. Go back to the villa.”

“Steve…”

Steve turned, and flashed his teeth. “Go back to villa, slave!”

The shout reverberated in Bucky’s chest, and he gasped suddenly, breathless. His heart thundered, his eyes welled with tears. He collided with the wall, and the gate as he hurried back to the ludus. Clint opened his mouth to speak, but Bucky rushed past before he had the chance.

Natasha was waiting for him at the top of the stairs, and she hurried toward him. She darted a look over her shoulder to check Tony wasn’t looking, then wiped away the tears that clogged Bucky’s eyelashes.

“Do you need medicus? Did that brute hurt you?”

“Only with words,” Bucky muttered.

“I could order brute's tongue to be removed.”

Bucky sniffled, and shook his head.

Natasha cooed sympathetically, then scrunched her brow. “You must hold tears for now. Hold them until the night is complete. If Emperor choses Steve, he will leave this ludus one way or another. Death or freedom.”

Her words were meant as reassurance, but the ache in Bucky's chest deepened. He was going to lose Steve, if he hadn’t lost him already.

 

The villa was swept and polished. The slaves wore their most expensive tunics and were dotted around the room. The armour of the guards had been polished to a mirrored shine, and they stood to attention by each doorway.

Steve stood in the centre of the room with his loincloth tied snugly. Tony had ordered his body to be dusted with gold powder, and he shone in the room like the god Tony claimed he was. He didn’t stare into the corner in defiance but looked straight ahead. The gold was in contrast to his facial hair, and the longer strands of his hair. Even his eyes looked a deeper shade of blue.

Bucky wanted to go to him, to explain, but Natasha had ordered him to stay by her side. He was wearing his most expensive red tunic, and his eyelids had been smudged with black. The swelling to his face had lessened, and his nose had stopped dribbling blood.

Natasha had rubbed white powder on her face to pale her skin. She rubbed soot along her eyebrows, and smudged black on her eyelids. Her cheeks blushed pink from a substance made from rose petals, and she wore a gold embroidered green gown. If Steve was a god, Natasha was every bit the goddess.

“Why do you stare?” She asked.

Bucky swallowed awkwardly. “You look beautiful.”

Natasha smiled, then snorted. “Husband has said such, but only when words leave your lips do I believe.”

Tony strolled forward and wagged his finger. “You believe words of slave, but not husband.”

“Bucky is more than slave.”

Tony sighed, and pinched the top of his nose. “You must not speak like that when Emperor arrives.”

“I won’t…”

“For tonight, Bucky is not most trusted slave, but the same as all, and must do all he is ordered to do without wife protesting.”

Natasha turned away.

A loud thump sounded at the door, and Tony huffed to himself, then wiped his sweating hands on his tunic.

“Path to Rome,” He muttered underneath his breath.

 

It wasn’t as bad as Bucky was expecting. Him and the other slaves were mostly kept out of the way. A click of fingers called them forward, but all they needed to do was refill the wine glasses and lay out more food for the guests to gorge on. So much wine had been purchased, it filled the store room, and they used the space in front of the ludus gates to keep richer, and sweet-smelling wine. It was nothing but a tease for the other gladiators, who panted at the bars and begged Bucky for a taste. He poured them a small amount when the other slaves were out of sight, and they flashed him warm smiles. They were going through the wine at a staggering rate, and Bucky started to think all they did in Rome was eat and drink wine.

Titus lounged on the biggest couch, and Natasha and Tony squeezed themselves on the one next to him. Brock and Sharon sat the opposite side of the room, scowling at Steve, and Pierce perched on a stool with a woman on his lap.

They drank, they ate as they lay admiring the gold-shimmering Steve. Some of the wives of Titus indulged in too much wine and approached Steve.

Titus turned to Tony and lifted an eyebrow.

“He’s quite safe,” Tony assured. “Well trained.”

Bucky looked away when they ran their hands along Steve’s chest, and cupped his pectorals. The women laughed, and commented on the firmness of his body, and a swift possessiveness rose up in Bucky. He didn’t like them touching Steve, he didn’t like their seductive purrs and their giggles.

“You will not get a rise from him.”

Bucky dragged his gaze up. Brock had staggered forward despite Sharon tugging sharply on his arm. Pierce climbed up from his seat and hurried over.

“The wine has muddled your mind—

“I am not muddled, you told me he desires men, or desires one in particular, one slave…”

The chatter of the room died down, and the women retreated back to their seats. Pierce tried to lead Brock away, but he pushed him back.

Titus rubbed his chin. “What do you mean he favours one slave?”

Bucky’s heart sped up, but he didn't dare shuffle away. He stood still beside the rest of the slaves, trying not to give anything away.

Tony cleared his throat and waved his hand. “He is rewarded with slave in his cell for victorious fight.”

“And has he had reward for today’s fight?”

Tony shook his head. “Later, when guests have left.”

“Why not now…”

“Now?” Tony repeated.

Titus nodded.

“Very well. Clint, escort Steve and Bucky to the ludus—

Titus laughed, and Tony fell silent.

“Not the ludus. I wish to watch your god pound into slave.”

The blood ran cold in Bucky’s veins. He felt the eyes of the other slaves flash to him, then away just as quickly.

“Surely not,” Natasha chuckled. “We do not wish to see such spectacle.”

“You speak for yourself” Brock muttered. “I wish to see reward.”

Titus nodded. “I have decided, or do you insult your Emperor…”

Bucky looked to Steve, but he didn’t look back. Instead he eyed the guard closest to him, fixated on the sword he held. Bucky looked at Natasha and saw how she slipped a knife off her plate and hid it at her thigh. Despite their efforts, they would all die unless the Emperor's desire was met.

Tony flashed a pleading look his way, and Bucky nodded minutely, then stepped forward. The eyes of everyone fixed to him, and he walked towards Steve with his gaze on the floor. He didn’t want to look him in the eye. His skin prickled in anticipation, and he stiffly kneeled on the floor. His knees ached from the hard tiles, and he braced himself with his arms.

He presented himself to Steve, still with his tunic hiding him, but it was clear what his posture prepared him for. His face burned with shame, and he pushed away any thoughts of his previous master and the things he was made to do to entertain him and his friends. Steve didn’t move, and an eerie silence was heavy in the room.

“Does your gladiator insult me?” Titus growled.

“Perhaps he is too tried from fight,” Tony offered.

Titus huffed, then sighed. “Very well—

“When slave offers himself so willingly, perhaps another should pound his arse.”

Bucky stiffened, then turned and glared at Brock. He just laughed in response and lifted his glass of wine.

“Another gladiator.” Titus mumbled, “Do you have another…”

Tony hummed, and scratched his head. Steve released a menacing grumble from his throat, and Tony shook his head.

“Their tastes are for women, not men.”

There was pain to Bucky’s scalp, and he yelped. Brock lifted his head and smiled down at him.

 “I for one am familiar with Bucky, I got to know him intimately when he belonged to his old master. I am sure I can entertain Emperor with him.”

The punch from Steve was brutal, and folded Brock’s nose into his face. He yelled, releasing Bucky, then stumbled back and landed heavily on the ground.

“You will not touch him.” Steve growled.

Titus clapped, and released a bark of laughter. “Your gladiator still has fire!”

Bucky turned to Steve and grabbed his blood covered hand. “You have to.”

Steve’s eyes shimmered, and his eyebrows almost touched in the middle with his intense frown. He opened his mouth, poised to say something, but Bucky turned away, braced himself with one arm then reached for the hem of his tunic to expose himself.

“Now I command you to fuck,” Titus said.

 Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, it was going to hurt, he knew it was. He wasn’t hard at all, and no desire burned within him. He just wanted it to be done, as quickly as possible. Steve’s hands brushed against him, then gripped onto his hips for leverage.

Bucky gritted his teeth and snorted breathes in and out his nose. He was determined not to scream with the burn, he had to keep his mouth shut for the villa's sake. If Steve heard him, he was bound to stop, and they would all be severely punished for denying the wishes of the Emperor.

Bucky dropped down to brace himself on his forearms and arched his back. He pressed his forehead to the tiles and tried to stop clenching his cheeks. He felt Steve’s thumbs tugging his flesh and exposing him further.

The sensation wasn’t what he anticipated. He thought a blunt pain would surge up his spine, but instead he tingled at the soft pressure. Steve wasn’t driving into him but was kissing him. His tongue was wet and hot, and lapped against the bunched tight folds of skin. Bucky gasped, and squirmed but Steve held him steady. He kissed, and licked, and swirled his tongue at all kinds of sensitive angles.

Bucky gulped, and the length between his legs thickened. Steve kissing him open felt good, and he couldn’t help but rock back into his soft tongue. He relaxed, and it felt even better. Steve was inside of him, loosening him up, making him feel good. Steve pulled his mouth away, and Bucky whined at the loss.

He pushed back, hoping Steve would understand and resume his tongue lashing, but instead he slid a finger inside Bucky’s entrance. Bucky whimpered, and panted wetly at the tiles. The finger left him, only to return, and guide into his body easier. Steve wasn’t seeking his prostate, but was widening his channel, getting him ready. His finger was joined by another, then another. It didn’t hurt, but when they retracted, Bucky sobbed from the empty feeling left behind. They were warm when they massaged his insides, but when they were out he felt cold.

“Steve…”

Bucky had no idea whether Steve heard him, but he said his name again, rocking back on his knees to push the fingers further into him.

“Enough! There is no need to get him wet like a woman, just fuck him.”

Bucky snapped back to reality at the shout. It was Brock's voice, muffled from his broken nose. Shame and panic seized Bucky, and he clenched down on Steve’s fingers. He didn’t pull his forehead off the floor, but his relaxed body suddenly tightened under the attention of all the eyes in the room.

Bucky felt Steve on his back, leaning over him, and his lips rested against the shell of his ear.

“Do not tense, it will hurt if you tense.”

Bucky moved his head away from Steve. He wasn’t tensing on purpose but couldn’t help it. Steve huffed, then leaned back.

There was a dull pressure to Bucky’s rear, not the addicting swipe of a tongue, or the bobbing fingers, but something thicker, and it started to push inside him. He had seen Steve’s cock, had held it, had sunk it deep in the heat of his mouth, but entering him, it felt triple the size, and the raw burn of his stretching skin made tears well in his eyes.

Steve eased himself in and stopped. Bucky released the breath he had been holding and panted at the floor. Steve was inside him, had filled the empty space with a firm warmth. Steve that had been gentle, who despite being mad with Bucky, was trying to limit his pain.

He relaxed around Steve and flexed his hips to encourage him to move. Steve understood, and pulled out only to plunge back inside. He moved with an easy rhythm, not too fast, but not maddingly slow either.

Bucky grunted each time Steve filled him and sobbed when he left. He loosened, and Steve’s thick cock brushed the sweet spot inside. Bucky cried out and pushed off from his forearms. Steve immediately stopped and wrapped his arm around Bucky’s chest, keeping him upright.

He heaved Bucky into his lap. Steve was on his knees, and Bucky spread his legs to sit more comfortably. He was on his knees too, with his shins balancing him on the tiles.

Bucky tensed when he saw everyone gawping at them, and his face filled with embarrassed fire. He didn’t want to be watched, what him and Steve had was theirs, and they were being forced to share it.

“Shut your eyes, Bucky.” Steve said by his ear.

Bucky didn’t, he flashed a look at all the people, all of them tainted their passion for each other. Steve slid his hand up Bucky’s face, taking care not to put pressure on his nose, and covered his eyes.

“Think and feel only me.”

Steve’s fingers rested on his eyebrows, and slowly he moved them down, closing Bucky’s eyelids. They rested there, making sure Bucky would keep them closed before moving down his face. His fingers roamed down his chest, catching his nipple and making Bucky jerk forward and gasp. Steve got to the bottom of his tunic, pinched the fabric, then lifted it off of Bucky. He was naked, but Steve’s bare chest warmed him, and his arse was secured on Steve’s heated lap.

Steve’s fingers prodded at his lips, seeking entry. Bucky allowed then, and Steve rested his fore and his middle finger on the rows of Bucky’s teeth.

“Bite down.”

Bucky obediently followed Steve’s command and closed his teeth on Steve’s fingers. He didn’t press hard, just squeezed them with his teeth. Steve’s thumb hooked him under the jaw, pressing to keep him steady. His other arm wrapped around Bucky’s stomach, clutching possessively on his hip for leverage.

Steve began moving, and Bucky pressed down harder on the fingers in his mouth. It stopped him clenching painfully on Steve’s cock, and after three thrusts, Bucky found his arousal reforming, and he shut out the audience watching them.

Steve brushed his insides in that pleasurable way again, and bright-white sparks danced behind Bucky’s eyelids. Steve kept him steady and hit the same place again.  Bucky pushed back into Steve’s chest, and moaned. His own moan was matched by Steve’s strangled one.

Steve thrusted into him, and Bucky lost himself to the sensation. He could feel only Steve, and greedily breathed in his intoxicating scent. A tingling grew within himself, a deep ache that lessened with each thrust, an ache Steve was working out of him.

“I cannot last,” Steve mumbled.

Bucky whined, he didn’t want the moment to end. He could feel something building inside him, something stronger than the times before. Bucky released Steve’s fingers from his teeth and panted.

“Please, Steve.”

Steve leaned forward, pressing his sweaty forehead to Bucky’s neck. “You feel too good.”

Steve stopped thrusting and heaved for breath against Bucky skin. Bucky whimpered and sobbed. He could feel the build up draining from him, he was losing the promise of intense pleasure, of an earthshattering orgasm.

“I must stop, or I will—

Bucky didn’t let Steve finish, he lifted himself up and dropped down fast on Steve’s cock. The chase for his orgasm was back on, and he fucked himself desperately on Steve’s cock. The angle wasn’t perfect, and leverage was near impossible, but he kept going despite his straining muscles. He reached behind himself, elbow high in the air, as he clutched Steve’s hair. Steve moaned, and cursed, and warned Bucky over and over he couldn’t last, that it felt too good.

Steve's desperate admission spurred him on, and he drove Steve into himself faster, until Steve stiffened, and flung his head back. He moaned, and Bucky imagined the streams of Steve’s come entering him, claiming him. Bucky squeezed every drop from Steve, then his own release climbed to the tipping point. He sunk down on Steve, and his prostate fluttered at the pressure.

The orgasm surged and gripped onto him. It stole his breath and unsettled the even beats of his heart. The heat surged in his groin, and his thighs trembled. Steve secured his arms around Bucky and held him as his orgasm continued. Waves of pleasure assaulted his senses, and all he was aware of was Steve, in him, surrounding him, against him. He was safe to enjoy the orgasm, Steve wasn’t going to let anyone deny him this intense pleasure. He couldn’t control the filthy moans that left his mouth. It felt too good, and he wanted Steve to hear, as well as see how good his cock inside him felt. He shook and flexed his hips weakly. Ripples of pleasure rolled inside him, accumulating in his cock. He was coming, and it had never felt so good.

Sensation slowly came back to Bucky. Steve’s arms were still around him, and his sweaty chest was stuck to his back. Steve’s scent was thick in the air, and his harsh breaths brushed Bucky’s shoulder.

He forced his eyes to open and blinked in the light of the room. The faces of their audience hung with shock. Eyes wide, and mouths open. Bucky looked down at the tiles splattered in his come.

Titus clapped his hands, then laughed. “Your god is panting mess, thanks to slave.”

Tony cleared his throat and blinked in quick succession. “Yes, it would seem. Stand, Steve, and return to previous position.”

Steve squeezed Bucky tight, then released him. Bucky felt hollow the second Steve pulled out from him, and the gush of fluids felt sticky, and grew cold quickly.

Steve got shakily to his feet, still heaving for breath. Patches of gold powder were gone from his flesh, his hair was messy, and sticking up at odd angles, and his cock bobbed glistening between his legs. He looked wrecked, completely destroyed.

Bucky turned back to the floor and looked for his tunic. He reached for it, but it was tugged harshly away by Brock.

“Still just a whore,” He whispered for only Bucky to hear.

Any lingering good feeling left him. Shame and humiliation rose in Bucky, and he climbed to his feet, then he looked at all the faces on him. He didn’t try to reclaim his tunic from Brock but fled from the room.


	12. The dangers of wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 is up, just one more to go and I'm all done :)  
> Thanks for all comments, and kudos! <3
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> 

 

Chapter 12

Bucky breathed deep for composure. Sweat had run down from his hair, and trails of the black smudges dirtied his cheeks. He scrubbed his face raw, then yanked on another tunic. It was white, and he tied a grey chord around his waist. He bobbed his head in his own encouragement, then strolled back into the room.

Steve was no longer standing in the villa. He must’ve been taken back to the ludus, and Bucky was relieved at not having to face him. He didn’t know how he felt about what had happened. Sex with Steve had felt good, but he had exhibited himself in front of a load of the wealthy elite. The secret truth of their hearts had been exposed and was no longer theirs, but everyone's in the villa.

Titus and his guests were still drinking wine. Brock was sat in the corner of the room next to the medicus. Brock’s arms were tightly crossed and there was a scowl on his face, he perked up when he saw Bucky, and smirked openly. Tony spoke with Pierce, and Natasha sat on her couch staring solemnly at the floor.

Bucky marched forward and took a jug from the table. He slotted himself between the other slaves and waited to be called. Natasha glanced casually over, then sat bolt up right when she saw him.

She clicked her fingers, and Bucky moved to her with all the grace he could muster. He leaned close as he poured the wine, and Natasha whispered hastily.

“Do you need medicus?”

Bucky shook his head. Their eyes met, and Natasha’s gaze softened. She looked like she wanted to reach for him but stopped herself and stroked her hair.

“My apologies.”

“No need Domina.”

“Every need,” Natasha murmured.

He had filled her cup, and there was no need to linger. Brock clicked his fingers, but Bucky didn’t go towards him, he let one of the other slaves fill his glass. Bucky stood with his chin raised and back straight. He had expected his audience to point at him and laugh, but they spared him no attention. The only one looking at him was Brock, and he refused to connect their gazes.

Titus left a short time later, and his entourage of slaves, guests and guards followed him. Pierce excused himself and left, leaving Brock and Sharon.

Brock was spread out on a couch, snoring loudly. Sharon tried to wake him, but Brock batted her away.

“Natasha, my good friend, will you let me and husband stay in villa?”

Natasha snorted, and got to her feet. “No…I do not house snakes.”

Sharon gasped, and pressed her hand to her chest. “I am friend, ally in pursuit of glory.”

Natasha rubbed her chin. “I will allow you to stay, not in adequate villa, but the cobbled courtyard of the ludus. May you wake to the whistle of sword as it swipes to take your head.”

Sharon scowled at Natasha, then picked up the edges of her gown and rushed towards Tony. She yanked her dress low, exposing more of her breasts.

“Tony, good friend, you would not cast us out into the night.”

Tony yawned, then rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I agree with wife. I wish for you to leave villa.”

“Your gladiator broke fucking nose,” Sharon snapped.

Tony sighed. “Brock goaded him into it, he should not have been so crude as to offer to take Steve’s place.”

Sharon tutted. “Merely a joke, you did not understand. My husband does not desire your slave, nor anyone but me.”

“Your husband is a twisted snake.” Natasha muttered.

“What, now you have met Titus there is no need for us? If it were not for Brock, you would not have met Pierce, and not have met Titus.”

“And I am grateful, but I do not wish for you to sleep in villa,” Tony said.

“Because of wife?”

“No, because I do no trust either of you,” Tony growled.

Sharon smiled, and narrowed her eyes. “You are right not to trust me. I made friends with Titus’ guests tonight, words from me could ruin your plan.”

“Bitch,” Natasha growled.

“I will tell them you insult Titus, you laugh at him, and wish for his reign to end.”

Natasha launched forward with her hand raised. Tony gripped her arm tight.

“No…”

Natasha pulled her arm back and stalked away.

Tony sighed, and pinched the top of her nose. “Fine, you and Brock can stay night. I want you gone at sunrise.”

Sharon rushed back to Brock, and with the help of their slaves, he was dragged down the villa to the unmade beds.

“Domina, should I prepare pillows and blankets?” Bucky asked.

Natasha shook her head. “No, let their sleep be fitful and unsatisfying.”

 

Tony and Natasha retied to their room to rest, and Bucky laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He wanted to see Steve, and knew Clint was on duty the first half of the night. He just had to wait until he had drifted off, then he could sneak down to the ludus and whisper Steve’s name.

Bucky didn’t know how much time had passed, but the villa was silent and dark. He tugged on his tunic and crept down the villa. Clint was slumped by the archway to the ludus. Bucky couldn’t hear his snores, but he was statue-still and that was a good enough indication.

Bucky tiptoed over and kneeled in front of Clint. The key was roped around Clint’s neck, and he reached for it. Clint grabbed his wrist fast and pressed his palm to Bucky’s mouth to stop his cry of surprise. Clint glared at him sternly and shook his head.

“Look who decided to creep, when I did not sleep.”

He removed his hand from Bucky’s mouth, but didn’t let go of his wrist.

“Please. I wish to speak to Steve.”

“We will both be punished if you go down there.”

Bucky drew his eyebrows together. “Not if no one knows.”

“Bucky…”

“Please. I must rid myself of shame and speak with Steve, I must see him.”

Clint let got of Bucky’s arm, and knocked his head back to the wall. “I will allow this once, but you must be quick.”

“Gratitude,” Bucky gasped, then rushed down the corridor to get to the steps.

Steve paced the gate to the ludus. The light of the fire-lantern flicked shadows over his skin. He stared down at his feet, and marched, muttering words Bucky couldn’t hear.

His head snapped up when he saw Bucky at the top of the steps. Bucky skipped down them and rushed to the bars. Steve immediately shoved his arms through, and gripped Bucky tight.

“I did not mean to hurt,” Steve whispered. “Are you sore?”

“I am, but it cannot be helped.”

A shrill noise escaped Steve, and he cupped Bucky’s arse, then tugged up the fabric and rubbed a finger at his hole. Bucky gasped at the warm length of Steve’s finger, it didn’t enter, just rubbed gently against him.

“Here,” Steve said, “You are sore here?”

Bucky snorted, and shook his head.

“Then—then where?”

“My nose still throbs” Bucky mumbled.

Steve stilled his finger and snorted. “Your nose? Not from my doing?”

“None of my body aches from your doing, Steve.”

He felt tender, but it was a good tender. He didn’t think there was such a thing.

“I just miss your touch.”

Steve pulled back from the bars and looked at Bucky. His eyes swooped to Bucky’s lips, and they angled their heads and clumsily kissed through the bars.

“You do not hate me?” Steve said.

Bucky dug his fingers into Steve’s muscular back. “Never. And you do not hate me for asking you to fight bad?”

Steve sighed, then pushed their mouths together. He pulled back and banged his head on the bars.

“Damn this cage,” He growled. “I do not hate, was only confused.”

“I want you to be free,” Bucky said, meeting Steve’s eye. “Titus favours you as worthy gladiator to face Thor. Your freedom is only fight away.”

“My freedom,” Steve whispered.

Bucky bobbed his head. He wanted nothing more than for Steve to walk from the ludus a free man. Not have to fight for Tony or for Rome. He nodded, but his fingers clutched onto Steve harder on their own accord, and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest.

There was a clatter from the top of the stairs, faint but it had carried down the corridor. Bucky pulled himself from Steve’s arms.

“Clint only allowed me minutes. I must go.”

Steve huffed, and his hands tightened around the bars. He looked sad, and the expression didn’t suit his stern face and powerful body. Bucky rushed forward, angling his face for Steve to kiss him. Steve immediately lunged and lay a sloppy kiss to Bucky’s lips.

He grinned happily, then backed away from the bars. He rushed up the steps, down the dark corridor and slammed into a firm body. He recoiled back, and gasped expecting to see Clint. It wasn’t Clint, he could tell by the hazy face of the man. The eyes on him were sinister, and the man backed Bucky down the corridor.

Bucky held his hands up in front of him and lowered his chin. “Brock, you must return to room.”

Brock chuckled, then grasped Bucky’s chin. “Wife is in room, we cannot have our fun there.”

Bucky struggled free of Brock, and tried to squeeze past, but he was grabbed and forced painfully into the wall. His spine surged with fire, and the knock to the back of his head dizzied him. Brock pushed against him, and Bucky could feel Brock's erection pressing into his thigh. The lingering wine on Brock’s breath flavoured the air with acidity, and Bucky angled his head away. Brock scrambled for the hem of Bucky’s tunics, and clawed his thighs as he tried to drive the material up. Bucky fought, and wriggled, then kneed Brock hard in the cock.

Brock called out, and the sound echoed. Bucky rushed, not back into the villa, but down the steps to the ludus. Brock growled and stalked after him. He rubbed at his sore cock, then flashed his teeth at Bucky as he descended the steps.

Bucky backed up to the bars and pressed himself against metal.

“You must return to villa,” Bucky said.

Brock snorted. “I will return once I conclude threat.”

Bucky frowned until Brock pulled a blade from the rope of the tunic. It was small and glinted in the lamp light.

“Left or right eyelid first?”

Bucky didn’t answer the taunt, and Brock laughed, then rushed the final steps. He closed in on Bucky with his lips twisted in a cruel smile, and his eyes bulging from their sockets.

Bucky’s terror eased when a prickle ran up his spine. He didn’t turn to see Steve but felt his presence somewhere behind him. Brock didn’t notice and grabbed the top of Bucky’s tunic. He smiled at Bucky, then frowned when Bucky smiled back.

Steve’s arm shot through the bars, breezing Bucky’s shoulder. He gripped Brock by the throat and squeezed. Bucky dropped down and scrambled away. He turned and watched as Brock struggled to remove the clutching hand from his neck. Steve didn’t give him up and slotted his other arm through the bars. He smashed Brock's face into the metal, messing up his injured nose further. Brock’s head rolled unsteadily on his shoulders, and Steve spun him around.

Brock faced Bucky, and he stared in open confusion. He looked pitiful in that moment, his eyes almost seemed to ask Bucky for help. Steve wrapped his arm across Brock’s throat, then gripped his jaw with his other hand. He pulled him opposing ways, and his neck crunched.

It wasn’t a loud snap, but it sickened Bucky, and he closed his eyes. He next opened them when there was a loud thump, Brock’s body falling to the floor. His neck was oddly twisted, and his mouth and eyes were still open. Bucky scrambled back, away from Brock, and away from Steve.

“Bucky…?”

It wasn’t Steve’s voice, but Natasha’s. He spun around and saw her at the top of the steps. Her face was ashen, and her eyes were wide and shiny.

“He killed Brock…” She mumbled.

“His death was too quick. I wished for slower, but glad he is dead.”

Steve’s tone was savage, and challenging, and Natasha stared at him.

“You killed a guest in our villa. You murdered him…This is one hurdle we cannot get past.”

Her eyes watered and ran down her cheeks. “We will all fall.”

“He was trying to hurt me,” Bucky gasped, “Steve stopped him.”

“Could brute not have smashed Brock’s head, not snapped his neck? What will Titus do when he finds out god has slayed party guest, and Pierce, and Sharon. They will ensure all of us fall. It is our fault untrained gladiator murdered a man of worth.”

“Domina, please.”

Natasha shook her head then turned. “I must wake up villa, tell Tony. Perhaps if we offer Steve as bloody sacrifice to the beasts, Titus will spare us.”

She walked away, and Bucky bounded up the steps after her. He dropped to his knees in the dark corridor and gripped her hand.

“Don’t, Domina.”

“What else can I do?”

“Steve only hurt Brock for hurting me.”

Natasha squeezed his hand, then tried to release it but Bucky didn’t let her.

“I wanted nothing more than your brutes of the past to die, but not in our villa, not when we are so close to Rome, and Titus is only few miles away. I must salvage this. Offer Titus a dramatic death for our god.”

“Please,” Bucky begged, “let Domina think before making rash decision.”

“He snapped Brock’s neck, Bucky!”

“Only because I led Brock to the ludus cells, I knew Steve would stop him. I am at fault as much as Steve.”

“I will not mention your involvement,” Natasha said, “I will say Brock walked too close to bars, and Steve got him, no motive. That should spare you.”

“I do not want to be spared if you take Steve from me.”

“Bucky…”

“You saved me from previous master. I escaped, and you found me, dirty and starved. You looked at me the way a caring mother would look at an ill child. You bought me off him. He was convinced I would die, and it was you that gave me reason to live. In this villa I did not feel pain, or terror, all until Brock entered it, all until Dominus was seduced my big fights of Rome. I have been beaten, used, and threatened, when you swore I would not be again.”

“I did not want you to be hurt—

“I can forgive broken promises, if you let Steve live tonight.”

“I cannot, to save us all, Steve will need to die. To be punished. A gladiator can not kill villa guest. He cannot fight for freedom when he has killed man of worth days before.”

Bucky released her hand and bowed till his head rested on one of her feet. “I swallowed burning poison. I stopped Domina, then husband from dying agonised death. Poison would have stopped heart, am I not owed heart?”

“Yes,” Natasha said firmly, “yours.”

Bucky sobbed, and rubbed his forehead on Natasha’s foot. “My heart does not reside in the walls of my chest but beats in Steve. Do not take him from me, do not stop my heart.”

“Your heart?” Natasha whispered. “Steve has your heart.”

“Yes Domina, please spare him, even if I take fall for Brock, spare Steve.”

Natasha dragged her foot back and stepped away. Bucky pressed his head to the tiles instead and sniffled noisily. He could hear Natasha pacing, the swish of her gown, and the slap of her bare feet, then she stopped.

“Rise, Bucky.”

“Yes, Domina.”

“I have plan, if plan succeeds we all are spared.”

He climbed to his feet and pawed at his wet cheeks. He bit his lip to stop it trembling and blinked fast to disperse the tears in his eyes.

“If we are caught…we will all die most horrific death.”

Bucky sniffled, and bobbed his head. “I know Domina—

“Quiet, we do as I say, and debt of poison is repaid, understand?”

“Yes, Domina.”

Natasha huffed, then strolled past Bucky back towards the steps of the ludus. Steve still stood with his arms hugging the bars, staring expectantly at Natasha as she plodded down the steps.

“I am not doing this for you brute, but Bucky. Go back to your bed and stay there.”

There was such savagery to her words, that Bucky shuddered. Steve eyed her, flashed one last look at Bucky, then backed away into the darkness.

“Bucky, grab arm of Brock.”

He did as she told him and noticed how Brock’s body was already starting to cool. His face had blotches of red, and his lips and the skin under his eyes had turned grey. Natasha took the other arm, and they hauled Brock to the steps. They dragged him to the top of the stairs before Natasha told Bucky to stop.

“What about Clint?” Bucky asked.

“I found him unconscious by the arch, blood dribbling from ear. Brock must have done it. We will get him help soon.”

Bucky nodded, and darted a look up the stairs, he hoped Clint was alright, but didn’t want him suddenly to appear and see what they were doing.

“This is what happened,” Natasha said. “I heard noise in night, went to find you to accompany me. Clint had been hurt, and I walked down corridor to investigate. I found Brock at bottom of steps. He had fallen in his drunken state in his pursuit for more wine.”

Bucky looked over. There was plenty of wine left from the party. He nodded, and Natasha nodded back.

“Right, we need to drop him.”

Natasha released Brock, and Bucky did the same, but he didn’t roll down the steps like they expected. They looked at each other wide eyed, then Natasha hissed, and gripped onto to Brock’s tunic.

“Together we throw him.”

Bucky nodded and helped Natasha lift him. Bucky’s arms throbbed and strained with the weight of Brock, and the managed to pull him to his knees. Then Natasha shoved him aggressively, and he tumbled down the stone steps, hitting the concrete with a final sickening slap.

“Are you ready, Bucky?”

He nodded and flicked his chin out.

Natasha swallowed uncomfortably. “I saw the body, then unleashed blood-curdling scream.”

Bucky slapped his hands to his ears to muffle the noise, but her shrill scream still stabbed painfully and he gritted his teeth.

It didn’t take long for shouts and calls to be heard from the villa. Guards rushed towards them, and Natasha backed Bucky against the wall. She shook and trembled, and tears ran down her face. Her hand wobbled as she pointed towards the steps.

“Brock…” she gasped.

Tony rushed to his wife and held her. “What has happened?”

“I heard noise in ludus, Brock fell from stairs, I saw body.”

Sharon barged her way past to see and released a scream even more shrill and stabbing than Natasha’s.

“He must have been after wine.” Natasha said, “Had he have asked, I would have got slave to retrieve some.”

Sharon thrashed her head left to right and dropped to her knees. “I do not believe.”

Natasha approached her, tightened her hand around her shoulder and leaned close to her. “Wine can be most perilous.”

Sharon turned, her eyes narrowed, and she launched herself at Natasha. The guards intervened and pulled the women apart.

“You killed husband!”

Natasha pouted. “Sharon is upset, hysterical over husband’s death.”

“You bitch!” Sharon yelled. “You did this.”

“Hysterical, we all saw Brock drunk, he must have returned for more. I am sorry Sharon, I am sorry my wine killed him.”

Sharon screamed, and tried to claw Natasha again, but Tony stood in her way.

“Do not try to strike wife.”

“I will kill your wife.”

Tony shook his head. “You are not welcome in villa. Guards will escort you out, I will order body to be wrapped, and return Brock to you at sunrise.”

Sharon thrashed, and kicked as the guards dragged her through the villa. Tony hugged Natasha tightly, and stroked her hair. Natasha peered over his shoulder. Bucky couldn’t see her lips, but he could tell by the crinkle of her eyes, she smiled watching Sharon being dragged kicking and screaming from the ludus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight with Thor anyone?


	13. Steve vs Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm going to bow out of this fic on chapter 13, hopefully not an unlucky chapter! 
> 
> Many many thanks to [Nonush86](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonush86)  
> who beta'd every chapter and spared you my silly errors.

 

Chapter 13

They had jumped hurdles to get to Rome, but finally they were physically making the journey. Natasha and Tony were seated in a comfortable carriage and another horse pulled Steve in a small cage. The slaves and guards had to walk, surrounding their masters and the cargo.

The guards were on high alert during the night on the road, and Bucky had no opportunity to talk to Steve let alone kiss him through the bars.

Sharon had spewed her hatred and tried to turn people on Natasha and Tony. It didn’t work. They believed her to be hysterical in her grief, and a medicus had been called to sedate her. Brock was dead, and they had covered up his murder. Tony didn’t question it, and Natasha acted despaired every time someone brought Brock’s name into conversation.

Every step taken towards Rome, Bucky had to force himself to remain calm. The fight, the last fight of the hundred days of games was between Steve and Thor. One would die, and the other would be freed.

He didn’t want to think about it. Either way he was going to lose Steve: there was a way where his loss would fill Bucky with a sense of joy, and another where his demise would instil a deep emptiness in him, cut out his heart for good.

Bucky’s jaw dropped at the sight of the amphitheatre. He didn’t think it was possible for men to make such a massive structure. They could hear the roars of the crowd rising from the top. Bucky looked at Steve. He had moved to the side of his cage and was staring wide-eyed. It was the first time he had looked truly nervous, and he didn’t blink.

The carriage stopped, and Natasha groaned as she climbed out. Tony followed, and clapped his hands.

“Look at it,” he said. “Worthy of our god.”

Natasha rolled her shoulders, then clutched her neck. “Let us rest.”

“You have rested the entire journey.”

“Rest on a bed that does not bump.”

Tony snorted, the strolled over to Steve. “Can you hear the sound of the crowd?”

Steve looked down at him. “I hear them.”

His voice was quiet and soft. It unnerved Bucky more than the chanting coming from the amphitheatre. They called for blood.

“We sleep tonight, and tomorrow you fight.”

Bucky watched the forced bob of Steve’s throat. He nodded and turned back to stare at the colossal structure.

They slept in a small villa close to amphitheatre. The slaves shared one room, Natasha and Tony shared another, and the room at the furthest end of the corridor was Steve’s. There were no windows in his room, and no furniture. Tony debated taking the fire-lamp out in case Steve used it as a weapon.

“I am not going to run,” Steve muttered angrily.

Tony snorted, then slowly closed the door to Steve’s room. He locked it, then rested his lips to the crack. “Do not start fire.”

“Now there is an idea...”

Tony clutched the key in his hand and strolled away to return to Natasha. He flicked his chin out at Bucky.

“Sleep.”

“Yes, Dominus.”

Bucky retired to the room of slaves, but he didn’t lay down on the hard floor with the others. He sat with his back against the wall and waited. Tony had the key, and he was going to take it. He wanted to be with Steve, just for a few minutes, an hour at most.

He waited as long as he could, then crept out. The guards were exhausted from the long journey and had both slumped by the front door of the villa. Bucky crept into Natasha and Tony’s room. They breathed and wheezed softly in their slumber. Bucky spied the key still in Tony’s grip. He cursed under his breath, then looked around the room.

He saw one of Natasha’s combs on the side table and snatched it up. It took a great amount of skill to swap the comb for the key, and when Bucky achieved it, he had to withhold his cheer of glee.

He scurried down the corridor and opened Steve’s door. The lamp was still flickering, and Steve was sat up against the wall, head on his knees.

He looked up surprised, then his surprise morphed into worry.

“You cannot be here.”

Bucky closed the door behind him, then gestured to himself. “Yet here I stand.”

“If Dominus catches you—

“Then what? What can he do?”

Steve shook his head. “I am not good company tonight.”

“Stupid gladiator. Always best company for me.”

Steve’s lips lifted, and he snorted. “But I am in no mood to talk.”

Bucky nodded, swallowed, then gripped the bottom of his tunic and hauled it over his head. “Nor am I…”

He fought off every instinct to curl in on himself and stood straight, hoping to tempt Steve to take the bait. Bucky didn’t want to think of the fight, he only wanted to think of Steve. He wanted Steve to kiss his worries away, drive the despair from his body even if it was only for a little while.

Steve got to his feet and approached. He was absent his heated gaze, and when Bucky was in his reach, he only circled his arms around him and held him still. He rested his bristly chin on Bucky’s shoulder, and sighed wearily. It wasn’t what Bucky was expecting, but he clutched Steve back, and closed his eyes taking a deep lungful of his scent.

“Do you fear fight?” Bucky whispered.

“No, only what fight will cost me.”

He ran his hands up Bucky’s back, and he leaned eagerly into the touch. Steve’s hands radiated heat, and Bucky hadn’t realised how tense he’d been until Steve rubbed it out of him. He sighed and pressed his face against Steve’s.

Bucky kissed Steve’s cheek, then skimmed across to get to his lips. He pressed his mouth to Steve’s but there was no response. Steve closed his eyes, and let Bucky kiss his face, his chin, his brow, his eyelids.

Steve allowed it and sighed in contentment at the touches. Bucky realized he was selfish in thinking he was the only one that needed to be distracted. Steve was worried, and Bucky could quell that worry. He could make Steve think only of him, and he intended to do so.

He sunk down to his knees, and licked Steve’s stomach.

“Bucky, not tonight…”

Bucky didn’t stop despite Steve’s reluctance. He kissed Steve firmly under his belly-button, and his cock grew thicker. Steve’s stomach twitched, and he sighed, then his head rolled back on his shoulders. Bucky lathered kisses on his naval and ran his tongue along the tops of his thighs. He looked up to Steve, and as if feeling the heat of his gaze, Steve’s head dropped forward for their eyes to meet. Steve’s were dark, and Bucky could hear his pants of want through his slightly parted lips.

He gripped the base of Steve’s cock firmly and gave it a barely touching lick. Steve groaned and shuffled, and Bucky licked him teasingly slow again. It was addicting for Bucky to see the rise and fall of Steve’s chest, how worked up he got him. Steve heaved with the featherlight licks, and his thigh’s shook. 

Bucky guided Steve’s cock into his mouth, and Steve pressed his lips together doing his best to silence his moan. Bucky gripped the base with both hands, and bobbed up and down, keeping his lips tight when he withdrew to Steve’s bulbus head. He sucked greedily, but steadily, and in no time, Steve was snorting breaths through his nose, and starting to shake.

When he was about to come, Bucky pulled off with a wet slap, and Steve stopped gagging himself and whined shrilly. Bucky stood, and darted out of the way of Steve’s gripping hands.

Steve watched in confusion as Bucky walked to the wall and pressed his chest against it. He spread his legs and angled his arse back for Steve to get the message. Bucky smiled when Steve made a sound close to a growl.

Hands were on him, and a finger dipped between his cheeks. Steve rubbed Bucky’s hole slowly, then pressed to test the tightness. Bucky didn’t clench down like the time before, Steve was gentle. Steve didn’t get turned on by him being hurt.

Steve’s fingers returned wetter, and Bucky moaned, and arched his back more. Steve was taking his time, one finger followed by two, all with Steve’s spit to aid them into Bucky’s passage.

It wasn’t quick enough, it wasn’t what Bucky wanted. He wanted to feel the rawness of Steve, and the stretch for days after. He wanted Steve’s claim on him to last longer than the fight when his fate would be decided.

Bucky turned and batted Steve’s hand away from him. Steve’s eyes widened.

“It hurt?”

“I want it. I want you now.”

“But—

“No buts,” Bucky growled, “make me yours. Make me feel you, ache with you.”

Steve groaned, then gripped his cock, and pushed slowly into Bucky. The stretch burned, and Bucky held his breath as his body accommodated Steve’s girth. The rawness was what he wanted, and he sighed when pleasurable shivers danced up his spine. Steve pulled out, then dove back inside. The repetitive motion eased away any discomfort, and the warm slid of Steve filling him made his heart swell with happiness.

“Harder,” Bucky gasped.

Steve stilled for a second, then drove in deeper, surer of his thrusts. Bucky knew he was holding back, all the power he possessed, and he bottled it, out of fear of hurting Bucky. Steve didn’t understand, not using it hurt more if it truly was the last time they were to have each other.

“Harder,” Bucky growled, jolting his hips back.

Steve breathed heavily through his nose and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist. He hauled him back, held him tight and began to pound into him fast and firm.

“Mine,” Steve hissed through his teeth.

The sweet spot inside Bucky sang with pleasure, and he gasped, and clawed at the wall in front of him for composure. Steve kept going, and his grunt to signal his release tipped Bucky over the edge. His cock spurted onto the wall in front, just as messily as Steve was squirting inside.

They panted as they came back to earth, then Steve spun Bucky around, clutched his face in both hands and kissed him. It wasn’t a kiss that slowed down the heat between them, it increased it with the promise of more. Bucky knew he should return back to the other room, but he didn’t want to leave. Steve kissed him desperately and walked him backwards towards the small bed in the room. The back of his knees hit the edge, and he sat down and stared up at Steve. There was want and hunger written in every line of his face, and his cock bobbed, red and wet. Bucky licked his lips, and Steve surged down and claimed his mouth.

In the back of his mind, he knew he should let Steve rest for the fight, but he didn’t want tomorrow to come, living in the passion of the moment was the best way to stop it.

Bucky didn’t know how many times he had come with Steve. He ached with the phantom feel of his cock still inside him. He loved sitting on Steve and riding him. No one had ever given him control like that before, and seeing Steve beneath him with his messy hair, and kiss-swollen lips, drove him crazy. He could take Steve apart like that, and he did.

He left the room stinking of sex and turning the key of Steve’s door was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“What are you doing?”

Bucky startled at Natasha’s voice, and spun around. The key was still in his grip, and she marched forward and snatched it from him. Her nostrils pulsed, and she took in Bucky's haggard appearance.

“I had to see him, Domina,” Bucky blurted.

“More than just see him,” Natasha snapped. “He could’ve escaped and killed us all.”

Bucky shook his head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“Is it so easy to sway my slave's mind with cock and hands.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and curled his lip. “Do not speak about it like that. You don’t know.”

Natasha blinked in surprise.

“I know he has your heart, but do you have his?”

“Yes,” Steve growled through the door at Bucky’s back, “he has my everything.”

Bucky’s lips twitched in a smile, and he glanced back at the door. When he turned back to Natasha, he was shocked to see her anger had gone, replaced by sadness.

“Then let the gods favour you, the fight is only four hours away...” She mumbled, then walked away.

 

The amphitheatre on the outside was nothing compared to the inside. The noise hit Bucky in waves, and the sheer number of people being packed together boggled his mind. Titus sat the opposite side of the arena, in a grand box of marble, and Natasha, Tony, and Pierce sat at the other. They had wide seats, with backs, but they weren’t as impressive as Titus’s throne.

Steve walked out on to the sands and received a roar that shook the ground. He saluted Titus, then turned and saluted Tony. His gaze lingered on Bucky, and Bucky tried to smile, but his lips hung limp. Steve didn’t smile at him either and turned to await his rival.

“He looks…defeated,” Pierce mumbled.

Tony shook his head. “No, never. My god is well rested, prepared for victory.”

Pierce rubbed his chin, then slowly turned his head to Bucky. “I hope you didn’t give reward before fight.”

Tony waved his hand. “Do you think me fool? Gladiators weaken with sex.”

Ice swept from Bucky’s head to his toes, he flashed a questioning look at Natasha, and she turned to her husband.

“What madness you speak?”

“Sex drains a man of his passion.”

Pierce nodded in agreement. “He grows sleepy and sluggish.”

Bucky clutched the back of Natasha’s chair to stay upright. Steve had been reluctant at first, had told Bucky it wasn’t a good idea. Bucky had selfishly insisted.

Natasha hissed and shook her head. “Maybe for a mere mortal, but a god would not weaken with sex.”

Bucky knew she had said the words for his benefit, but they did nothing to rid him of the intense guilt riding up in his body. He had weakened Steve for the most important fight of his life.

Tony huffed. “It does not matter, no sex between slave and gladiator, and now he fights for freedom.”

“Whether it be death, or life outside this amphitheatre…” Pierce mumbled.

The crowd roared, and Bucky looked to the arena. Thor walked out, a triumphant walk of a well-rested gladiator. He was taller than Steve, wider too, and the hammer he held was huge, and dirtied with its previous victims. His hands looked like they could crush rock, let alone bone, and his face was fierce and targeting Steve.

Steve glared back, but he didn’t have the same level of intimidation as Thor. Bucky’s chest felt tight, as if someone had wrapped burning irons around him. He wheezed for breath, and Natasha looked at him. Her eyes widened, and she stood up abruptly hiding Bucky from Tony and Pierce’s view.

“I need to re-powder nose,” She said.

“What, now?” Tony asked.

“Yes, now.”

She ushered Bucky out, and he just about managed to force one foot in front of the other. They walked back into the corridor behind the stands. It was empty, everyone was waiting for the fight to begin. The crowd went silent, no doubt Titus was addressing his public before the final fight.

Bucky heaved, and his vision blurred as he did his best to force the unsatisfying air into his lungs.

“Breathe, Bucky,” Natasha said gently.

She was rubbing circles into his back, but it reminded him of Steve the night before. Steve had drawn patterns on his back while he rested.

Bucky’s eyes stung, and tears escaped them, and dropped to the stone at his feet. He watched the damp patch grow wider, and his throat tugged painfully from his sounds of despair. His noise was drowned out by the crowd, the fight had begun he was certain of it.

“I cannot Domina, I can’t watch him die.”

“You speak as if he has already lost.”

Bucky ran his hand down his face, but it did nothing to lessen the tears on his cheek. “I weakened him—

“Passion is not weakness,” Natasha growled.

“I have robbed him of his chance of freedom, and now only death awaits him.”

Natasha grabbed Bucky’s face and lifted his gaze. “You cannot change past now. If Steve is to fall, then he is to fall. The gods make decisions, not us.”

“I cannot watch him die.”

Natasha’s eyes swelled with sudden tears, and she blinked them back. “It will hurt more than you can bear, but you must stand and watch—

Bucky shook his head, but Natasha clutched him harder, and shushed him.

“If Steve is to fall, in his final moments he will look to you. You have each other’s hearts. He will want to take your image with him to the afterlife. You cannot deny him that moment. You cannot hide here while his eyes seek yours. You will regret not offering him that slither of happiness at the end.”

Bucky sniffled, then nodded. “It will be hard.”

“Yes, but you must stay strong for the sake of Steve. He must see you strong in that final moment.”

“Yes, Domina,” Bucky mumbled.

She released him and took a step back. The crowd cheered, and called, and there was the fainter sound of clashing, a hammer striking a shield.

Natasha nodded, and Bucky nodded back.

Tony didn’t pull his eyes away from the fight to acknowledge his wife. He was too engrossed in the fight, as was everyone else. Bucky stood straight, with his shoulders lifted, and his chin raised. He would not show any of his internal feelings on the outside but keep them locked away for after the fight when he could shatter into a million pieces.

Thor growled, and swung his hammer. Steve roared back and blocked with his shield. The manly grunts travelled far, and each got a responding cheer from the crowd.

Steve was covered in blood and limped heavily. Thor had a deep slice near his eye that seemed to affect his vision. He staggered, and Steve limped.

The fight went on longer than any fight Bucky had seen before. The shield and hammer were both abandoned, seemingly too heavy to wield in their exhaustion. They used their feet, and their fists, but the power of the strikes went down fast.

Thor and Steve leaned against each other in the arena, blooded and worn out. They didn’t have the strength to lift their arms and fell away from each other. Thor landed on his arse, panting, and Steve dropped heavily on his knees with his face tightened in pain.

They were both too exhausted to continue.

“What happens now?” Tony asked Pierce.

Pierce rubbed his chin, then flicked his head towards where Titus sat. “He decides who wins.”

“But it was a draw.”

Pierce nodded. “Yes. He may favour one’s skill over the other's, or he may choose a more fitting end to his games.”

“Like what?”

“Well there are still beasts below. He may wish for the gladiators to be finished in spectacular fashion.”

Bucky swallowed awkwardly but didn’t lower his chin. Steve was looking at him, and he wanted to give the impression he was calm and collected. If he were to be torn limb from limb by one of the striped beasts, Bucky couldn’t further his agony by wailing.

Titus stood, and the amphitheatre fell silent. Bucky could hear his heart beating, squelching blood hard and harder around his body. He could only breathe in tiny amounts of air, and he leaned form foot to foot, reminding his body to stay rigid so he didn’t fall.

“There is no victor,” Titus shouted.

The crowd roared in response and stomped their feet.

“I have decided, both gladiators have fought well. Both have entertained us with a spectacle impossible to recreate. Both gladiators walk from here, free men.”

There was a pause of a few seconds, then a massive cheer from the audience. Bucky gasped, and his eyes filled with yet more tears, not of despair but relief. Natasha turned to him, smiled, and gripped his hand. He gripped back, and held her, not caring if anyone saw. Steve was free.

Free, but injured. The medicus patched him up after the fight below the arena. Tony, and Natasha went down to see him, and Bucky eagerly followed.

Steve was laying in a bed, with his eyes dropping. His open wounds had been stitched, and his bruises were growing darker by the second as they watched. Bucky didn’t ask for permission from his Domina or Dominus, he rushed forward, and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck.

He returned the hug with one arm, then sagged back down.

“My god fought well,” Tony said, pulling a sack of coins from his tunic. “So, well.”

He put them on the bed beside Steve, but he didn’t clutch them up.

Tony frowned in confusion. “There is much there, much for a free man.”

Steve eyed the bag with distaste, then glared at Tony. Tony shuffled away and pressed his hand to his chest.

“You can buy anything, villa, food, wine—

“How much for Bucky?” Steve asked.

Tony rocked back on his heels and turned to Natasha.

Natasha shook her head. “He is not for sale.”

Steve curled his lip back and flashed his teeth. One was missing after his fight with Thor. Tony took another step back, but Natasha lifted her head and stalked forward.

“I will not sell him, but if he wishes it, I will let him go free with you.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped open, and he openly gawped at Natasha. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I will not deny you what your heart wants. I promised I would not be cruel and keeping you from Steve is cruel.”

Bucky sprung forward and wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug, and he nestled his nose in her sweet-smelling hair.

“How can I repay—

“No need to repay. I only wish for you to be happy.”

Bucky released his hold of Natasha and moved back towards Steve. Steve clutched his hip, and dragged him closer, as if he were afraid Bucky would suddenly be torn from him.

“I wish only for you to visit me one day,” Natasha said smiling. “One day, if I am fortunate enough to have child, I wish for you and child to meet.”

Bucky nodded. “I wish for that, too.”

Natasha turned her attention to Steve; her smile fell and was replaced by a cold cruelness.

“And you, you will protect him as I tried, make sure no others of his previous life harm him. Punish all who try.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered, woozy from whatever the medicus had give him for the pain. Then his face stilled, and the savageness he fought with returned. His lips twisted with the same cruelness of Natasha’s and his blue eyes glinted with promise.

“I swear. I will kill them all.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed What Gladiators fight for. The the last fight of Titus's games was fought between two gladiators, who battled for hour, then surrendered to eachother. Titus was touched by their sportsmanship and granted them both freedom.  
> I couldn't kill Steve or Thor so stole the ending from real events.
> 
> I'm hopefully going to get back into writing the Apex alpha, and then I can start something new with Steve and Bucky.
> 
> Many thanks for reading, and all your kudos and comments. <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy <3  
> Not long to go before the movie! I'm still holding out for a hug between Steve and Buck, a special hug with tongues involved...
> 
>  
> 
> Don't be shy come say hi <3 Make my day, come say hey <3...[tumblr](http://cookie-book-took.tumblr.com)  
> or [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/Louisecwrites)  
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